Consequences
by Kimmy.Tosh
Summary: In the days prior to IR: Virgil and Alan struggle to deal with the fallout of a fatal accident, during a family reunion at the race track. Whilst Jeff Tracy must consider the implications of asking his sons to join him in his plans for a better future...
1. Reunion

Disclaimer: I acknowledge that the Thunderbirds characters depicted in this story to not belong to me but would ask that anyone wishing to reproduce this document anywhere else, please contact me first. This applies to ALL chapters.

Authors Notes:

This chapter has been re-posted due to a few changes with dialogue and grammar.

Many thanks to my wonderful friend and Beta, Amanda for all her help and support. Reviews are very welcome either via e-mail at or in the review box.

Readers, please be aware that this fiction is strictly TV verse.

**Consequences**

In the days prior to IR, Virgil and Alan struggle to deal with the fall-out of a fatal accident during a family reunion at the race track. Whilst Jeff Tracy must truly consider the implications of asking his sons to join him in his plans for a better future…

Chapter One –Reunion

Jeff Tracy sighed and glanced up at the clock that sat on his desk for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes. He sat back, allowing the heavy metal pen in his hands to drop onto the all-important contract that now cluttered his mahogany desk. Chewing his bottom lip slightly, he sipped at the rapidly cooling coffee that sat atop of the pile of other paperwork he was yet to reach, before letting out another sigh. Regretfully, he glanced between the clock and the papers on his desk, weighing up the likelihood of keeping to his scheduled plans. Solemnly arriving at a despicable acceptance, he reached for the videophone in his pocket and dialled.

It only rung a few times before the recipient answered.

"Hey Dad." His oldest son smiled back at him through the ample colour screen. "Where are you?" He spoke loudly, the sound of revving engines drowning out his voice.

"Hi Scott, I'm still in London. This is taking longer than I thought so I'm just calling to let you know I might be a bit late." He winced at the words; his sons were expecting him and he hated to let them down. "I'll make sure I'm there as soon as I can be though. Okay?"

Scott seemed unsurprised by the revelation. "Sure Dad. I'll let the others know. How long do you think you'll be?"

Jeff shrugged, sighing once more and running a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure Scott, a couple of hours at least. I've got to close this deal." A wave of guilt threatened to overwhelm him; he felt he was disappointing them. "Tell Alan I'm sorry. Are John and Gordon there?"

"Yeah." Scott nestled his sunglasses in his hair. "Gordon got here last night, John this morning." He rubbed his eyes. "It's nice, being all together. It doesn't happen very often any more." Scott added wistfully.

Jeff knew his son well enough to realise that that was Scott's way of reminding him how important this get-together was. Since they'd all left home and excelled in their chosen careers, his boys had become men. Men who had busy lives of their own. Even Alan, still in the final stages of his education in Colorado led a busy life that seemed incompatible with his own. Jeff Tracy was a busy man, however his sons had always been the most important part of his life and he missed them dearly. Almost as much as they missed him and each other. His only reprieve was the fact that the project he was working on at the moment would allow them all to spend a lot more time together. Something he was planning to discuss with them over the weekend, if he ever got there. "I know Scott." He nodded eventually. "How's Alan?"

Scott's smile widened. "Well, he's putting on a brave face but Virg seems to think he's worried about the transmission."

Jeff shook his head in reply. "He shouldn't be. He's only just had it rebuilt after the last time." He rolled his eyes. "I'm telling you Scott, if that car breaks down again I swear …." He shrugged. "I don't know what I'll do but it won't be pretty."

Scott laughed. "You're not the only one. Alan's not exactly pleased at the fact that he still hasn't managed to complete one race this season yet."

"Well hopefully he will today." Jeff raised an eyebrow. "Listen, I'd better go Scott. I'll hopefully see you in a couple of hours."

"Sure, see you." He closed down the link with a sigh, hoping his father made it in time for the race.

"That Dad?" Scott turned to see Virgil walking towards him. A cup of coffee in either hand. "Here." He sipped from one of the cups, handing the other to Scott.

"Yeah, he's going to be late. I think he might miss the qualifier." Scott took a sip from the hot liquid as he leant against the wall, adopting a similar pose to his brother. "How's it going?" He gestured to the red Ferrari GX10 series, a classic that his youngest brother had bought nearly nineteen months ago and had been racing ever since.

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Well it looks fine to me." He shrugged. "Between you and me, I think Al's getting paranoid. There have been so many problems with it, he really needs to just get a race under his belt to get some confidence back in the car." Virgil went about removing the top half of his overalls and tying them loosely round his waist, revealing a white shirt.

"I thought the car was fixed now." Scott frowned.

"Well, it is." Virgil ran a hand across his forehead. Inadvertently smearing a thick layer of grease across the tanned skin. "Ferrari US have had it for the last three weeks and they've gone over everything. They re-fitted the whole transmission system after the gears went; they put in a new clutch, new everything…" He trailed off, rubbing at his temples and leaving more grease behind.

"So what's the problem?" Scott finished the coffee and placed the paper cup inside the one his brother had discarded.

"There isn't one. Al's so paranoid something's going to go wrong because it's broken down so many times before…." Virgil trailed off again. "He really needs to complete this race. Even if he comes in last, it'll do him good…"

"To regain some confidence in the car. I get it." Scott smiled, as his brother turned to face him and he burst out laughing.

"What?" Virgil asked, frowning as Alan walked over, joining his older brother and laughing loudly. "What is it?" Virgil repeated.

Alan coughed, smirking. "You've got err …grease all over your face." He smiled widely, looking across at Scott's grin.

"Maybe that's because I'm the only one doing any work." Virgil griped good naturedly as he grabbed a nearby rag and disappeared into the small bathroom.

Scott smiled, reminded of how good it felt to be around his brothers again. Since leaving for the Air Force the occasions when all five of them could spend time together where rare. He had been really looking forward to spending some quality time with his brothers this weekend and he knew how important this race was to Alan.

"You alright Kid?" Alan turned to him, his smile still fading.

"I'm not a kid Scott." He replied automatically. "I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?"

Scott smiled knowingly. "You're not nervous?" The question had already been answered in Scott's mind by the way Alan hopped from foot to foot softly.

"Nervous, me? No!" He exclaimed frowning at the theory. "Why would I be?"

Scott ignored the question. "What times the qualifier?"

Alan walked over to the car, reaching inside and pulling out his racing suit. "About an hour, I should get changed." He paused. "Virgil and Sam are going to go over the car one last time."

Scott raised his eyebrows; Sam was one of Alan's mechanics and a good friend of Virgil's. "Sam's here? I haven't seen him. Is Kenny here too?"

"Nah Kenny's at a wedding, of course Sam's here." Alan smirked. "This car doesn't go anywhere without at least one of them." He slapped a hand on the roof before pausing. "I think he's gone up to the roof, Gordon wanted to watch the Lamborghini's." He glanced at his watch, before taking it off. "Can you take care of this for me? It doesn't sit right when I've got my suit on." He handed the watch over to his brother.

"Sure, I'll go up and join Gordon. Is John with him?" Scott turned and began to walk off as Alan kicked his shoes off and Virgil reappeared.

"I think so." Alan's muffled reply could just be heard as he pulled his shirt off over his head.

Scott turned to Virgil. "I'm heading up to the roof to watch, you coming?"

His younger brother shook his head as he wiped his hands on a rag. "Nah, Al wants me to go over the car again. Can you do me a favour though?" He didn't wait for an answer. "If you come across Sam, ask him to come down and give me a hand."

Scott nodded "Sure." He called as he made his way out of the paddock they'd been assigned. Strolling out into the sun, Scott replaced his sunglasses. Thoroughly pleased that the weather seemed to be holding out he made his way up onto the roof, unable to remember a time he'd felt so content. Immediately spotting his two brothers, he headed over to where they leaned over the railings with Sam.

"Hey!" He called out; slapping a hand on the back of the tall, blonde dark skinned man, they all knew as Sam.

"Shush!" Was his hissed reply as the blonde man turned to face him; he gestured down to the track below them. Scott followed his line of vision; directly below them he could just make out Virgil's form in the pit lane. Glancing alongside it he noted the only straight of the track running parallel. He was just about to enquire exactly what Sam's fascination was when the sound of screeching tyres and the high-pitched whine of straining engines could be heard in the distance. Scott watched as six or seven screeching Lamborghini's, ranging in colours flew past at high speed.

"Amazing!" Sam enthused to the oldest Tracy. "Did you hear that? Perfect!" He shook his head in admiration. "Music to my ears."

Scott laughed loudly. "You never change Sam. How are you?"

The mechanic took Scott's outstretched hand and shook it with vigour. "Good, good." The reply came. "You? How's the Air Force treating you?"

"Great!" Scott smiled. "It's been a while. We'll have to catch up later, how about a drink tonight?"

"Hmm." The mechanic pondered. "Last time I went for a drink with you, I spent the morning after seriously considering giving up alcohol." He paused, raising his eyebrows. "Of course I'll come!" He grinned.

"Great," Scott laughed again. "Oh, by the way. Virgil's looking for you; he wants a hand with the car."

"Oh the car." Sam groaned. "You know I have nightmares about that car." Scott grinned. "I'm serious" The mechanic whined as he headed for the stairs. "Bad, bad nightmares." He pulled a face before reaching the stairs, humming the death march loudly.

Still smiling Scott turned his attention to his two brothers. He noticed John was frowning as he turned toward the younger redhead, both looked completely relaxed.

"You can't have a yellow Lamborghini Gords, it's just wrong." John was arguing playfully.

"And what's wrong with yellow?" Gordon replied a little testily.

"Well nothing, as a colour." John was saying diplomatically. "It's just it's not a car colour."

"Not a car colour!" Gordon exclaimed. "Okay, if it's so not a 'car colour' then explain to me why three of the Lamborghini's on the grid were yellow. If it was so unpopular they wouldn't make them yellow would they?"

"He's got a point there John." Scott came between them, leaning against the railing and glancing down to where Virgil was guiding Alan out of their paddock. "They're lining up." He pointed over to where fellow competitors where lining up their cars for the qualifier.

"I sure hope that car runs okay today, Alan's getting real stressed about it." Gordon confided to his two elder brothers. "You can't blame him for feeling frustrated when the damn thing keeps letting him down, can you?" The sound of impatient revving of engines floated up to their ears; that guttural roar that only a Ferrari could produce.

"Sam said he needs to take it easy." John commented as he shook his head. "Whew! It sure is hot here for England." He wiped a hand across his brow.

"Don't complain!" Gordon raised both hands up in the air to embrace the sun. "It's great, this is the first time I've been to England and it hasn't rained! I'll bet you any money you like it rains before we leave."

Scott smirked. "Yeah, well you'd better cover up, you'll burn pretty easy today Kid."

"Hey!" Gordon exclaimed. "Just because Alan's not here, don't think you can get away with calling me a Kid. I'm not ten years old anymore."

John laughed loudly. "No matter what you do, you and Alan'll always be the kids, Kid." He smirked as Gordon playfully swatted his arm.

"I meant both of you." Scott shook his head.

"There they go!" John called, the sound of screeching engines reached them as the ten or so competitors tore into the first corner. All three brothers raced across the roof to the other side to see Alan take up eighth position behind a blue Ferrari.

"Alan can take that number 43." Gordon said with confidence. "Last time, he was in seventh position before the gears went. I thought he did pretty well considering he only had first, third and fifth gears." Scott nodded, his eyes glued to the straight for any signs of life as they walked back across the roof. "And when the starter motor went, he qualified in fifth position." Gordon continued to no one in particular. Due to his commitments at the WASP, he had regretfully been unable to make a lot of Alan's races. Despite that fact though, his only younger brother would fill him in on every single detail. Scott knew that if Alan had confided his anxiousness about the car in anyone it would have been Gordon.

"There he is!" John pointed into the distance as the screaming engines became louder and the matchbox cars of the distance came closer. "He's coming up on the inside." John gave an instinctive running commentary. "He's passed the blue one, I don't believe it! He's … He's going to … He's taken the red one too!" They raced across to the other side of the roof to see them come out of the corner.

"Yes!" Gordon called out. "He's holding it. If he can keep that position, he'll qualify in sixth place."

"How many laps Gordy?" Scott asked over the sound of screeching tyres.

"Two left." Gordon said distractedly. "The blue one's overtaken the red one. John, look! He's getting closer to Al!" He paused. "Is it me or does that safety car look like it's about to come out?"

John followed Gordon's arm looking down to where his younger brother pointed at the silver car, its green lights flashing. "It's probably just …" John trailed off as it pulled out onto the track and increased its speed.

"Something's wrong." Gordon turned to Scott instinctively, as if his oldest brother had all the answers; a habit born of his childhood. "Where are they?" He breathed heavily as he stared intently towards the end of the straight, waiting for the cars to appear.

John and Scott shared a concerned glance, before Gordon's elated cry of, "There they are!" Turned their attention, they both glanced down to see the cars entering the pit lane. "And there's Alan, behind 56. Thank God!" He sighed.

"Come on." John called as he headed for the stairs. "Let's get down there and find out what's going on."

Entering the paddock, Virgil could just be made out as he ran towards Alan's car as it came to a stop. The car was barely stationary when Alan jumped out, pulling off his racing helmet and the heat resistant hood before ripping open the collar. Virgil threw him a bottle of water, before turning to push the car back into the paddock with Sam's help.

Whereas John and Gordon headed to Alan, Scott jogged over to help his chestnut haired brother.

"Need a hand?" He smiled, helping to push the car backwards.

Virgil nodded, grateful for the assistance. "Ever feel like you're just the gofer?" He gestured over to where John and Gordon where eagerly questioning Alan. The comment gave rise to a dry laugh from both Sam and Scott.

"What happened?" Gordon asked urgently, as Alan gulped down desperately needed water.

"I don't know." He gasped for breath as Scott, Sam and Virgil approached him. He was hot, flustered and breathless. "It was Jim Matterson, I don't know what happened. One minute we're going…" He paused for breath. "Great guns, the next. He's spinning round in my rear view mirror." Sam nodded before disappearing. "The control tower cut the radios, where was I?" Alan asked, still gulping at the water.

"Sixth, in front of Mark Jamison." Gordon informed him, looking up to the board for conformation. "Well done."

Alan nodded, smiling at the compliment and the fact he'd managed to hold the position in front of his rival. "Thanks."

"You'd better get out of that suit." Scott told him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You look like you're overheating."

Alan allowed himself to be guided into the paddock, were he began unzipping the race suit. "Hey Al!" He turned to face the voice of his second eldest brother. "Car okay?" Virgil asked.

Alan nodded. "Brakes were a bit spongy but the gears were okay." He seemed pleased and Virgil smiled a reply as Sam came back in.

"It was Jim Matterson." He confirmed. "He's okay, looks like one of the bearings went and the stub axel snapped." There were shocked gasp and audible winces from Virgil and Alan. "Back, nearside apparently. Spun him into the wall. He was lucky."

"I'll say!" Virgil agreed.

"Oh well," Alan shrugged. "I guess that's one less for me to worry about." Five sets of incredulous eyes turned on him. "What! The guy isn't hurt." He defended himself. "I was just saying."

"Well don't!" Scott growled.

"I can't believe you just said that!" Gordon frowned disgusted at his brother.

"I'm starving!" Alan stretched, ignoring them. "Anyone want to get something to eat?"

Scott just shook his head, illustrating his disapproval.

"Sam and I had better check these brakes out." Virgil said as he pulled open the rear compartment revealing the engine.

Alan nodded nonchalantly. "Okay, you three coming?"

Scott frowned at his brother. "I'll tell you what; we'll go find you something to eat. You stay and help Virgil and Sam get YOUR car ready."

Alan pouted for a few minutes and looked as if he was going to argue, but he just nodded. Scott's message was clear enough.

XxxxX

Jeff Tracy raced up the stairs to the roof breathlessly. He spotted his three sons and headed over. "Have I missed anything?"

"Dad!" They chorused. Each taking their turn to clap him on the back as he leant against the railings, gazing down to the track.

"They're just lining up." Scott informed him. "They're running late, had to redo the qualifier after an accident." He added. "Alan qualified in sixth position, fourth in his class." There was a definite proud tone to his voice.

"That's excellent. Is that him there?" Jeff pointed out the red Ferrari, white stripes running over the roof and the number 33 emblazoned on either side, front and back.

"Yep." Gordon said excitedly. "I'm telling you, if he drives like he did in the qualifier he could make a podium position today." John nodded in agreement.

"Is this the race or the warm up lap?" Jeff asked as he slipped his jacket off.

"Warm up." Scott told him. "You get your work done?"

"Yes son, I did." Jeff smiled; he didn't really want to elaborate on that until an appropriate time; perhaps over supper tonight. "Say, where's Virgil?"

"Oh, he's down in the pit lane with Sam. In case Al needs any help during the race." John said distractedly. "You see that white one, second from the front on the left?" The others nodded as the cars pulled into formation on the grid. "He's British, real idiot. He pays three mechanics $2, 00 each to look after his car twenty four seven whilst we're here, they even have to pick him up after the race. They drive his car back. Pathetic huh?"

Gordon nodded his agreement as Scott piped up. "Maybe that's starting to rub off on Alan. I noticed he wasn't too eager to help Sam and Virgil out today. He'd be lost without them, and it's not like they're getting paid two grand. In fact, without Kenny this weekend they could use the extra help."

"Alan does appreciate them helping him." Gordon defended his younger brother with a sigh. It was so typical of Scott to look out for people abusing Virgil's good nature. Yet, he thought, it was typical of him to defend Alan too.

"I know that." Scott said testily. "I just think he should show it more."

"How many laps John?" Jeff asked, reaching into his jacket to place a pair of sunglasses on.

"Twelve, father." John told him in reply.

"And I take it the car's running okay?" Jeff asked again.

"Fine Dad." Gordon told him. "Virgil and Sam have checked the brakes and the gears seem to be okay."

"Thank Goodness for that." Jeff sighed. "Right. Well if this is a warm up lap, I'm going down to get a drink. Anyone want one?"

Several shakes of the head later, he was heading for the bar. "This vacation is just what Dad needs." Gordon said suddenly. "He's been real stressed out recently with the Business and this new special project he's working on."

Scott nodded. "Yeah. Well let's try and keep it as stress free as possible. Huh Gordy?" Scott nudged his brother.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gordon asked innocently.

John coughed pointedly but Scott elaborated. "The last time we had any time together you and Alan ruined it!"

"Ruined it…" Gordon began defending himself but both brothers spoke over him.

"Yes!" They chorused.

"You got drunk and brought that gigantic plastic fish back to the hotel." John was about to explain further when the lights and revving of engines caught his attention. "They're off!" He called before Gordon could retaliate.

"Go on Al, come one." Scott silently pleaded as they headed into the first corner. His brothers were less discreet in their willing Alan on and joined the cheering crowd as they raced across the roof to see them come out of the bend. Tyres screeching with the pressure and engines roaring as they flew past and into the distance.

It was the sickening but loud screech that grabbed everyone's attention. Scott looked across to John who looked at Gordon. They raced to the other side of the track as the safety car went out and a cloud of smoke could be seen on the horizon. Then the original loud pop, was followed by more sickeningly loud bangs… …


	2. Accidents Happen

Authors Note: Many thanks to all those who reviewed. The feedback is very highly valued, I appreciate all the thoughts and comments of those reading. Thank you.

Chapter Two – Accidents Happen

There was a long pause, before anyone dared speak. Other spectators clamoured to see what was happening; the terrain obscuring their view.

"They're coming in, look!" Gordon eventually broke the silence. It seemed like an age had past before he pointed down to the stream of cars entering the pit lane.

"Where's Alan?" John asked. An unmistakable undercurrent of panic emitted in his tone of voice.

"He's not there!" Gordon exclaimed, further adding to John's worry.

"Whoa!" Scott called, placing a hand on both of their backs as he looked down to the pit lane himself. "Slow down guys! Let's not panic unnecessarily. It's a long track and they're still coming in, give the Kid some time to get round."

Silent, anxious minutes passed by, pregnant with anticipation. "He's not there." Gordon whispered shaking his head. "The blue one, number 43. He's missing too. He was right behind Al." Gordon turned wide eyes on his two elder brothers. "Permission to panic now?" John looked across at Gordon in admiration; he was clearly attempting to mask his anxiousness with humour.

John however was making no such effort. "Granted." He said stonily. "Scott what are we going to do?"

Scott swallowed. "Okay. John, you go and find Dad he should be in the bar. Gordon, you come with me." After sprinting across to the staircase, they went their separate ways. Gordon and Scott heading over to the track, whilst John hunted out their father. With all the commotion, the blonde brother doubted his would be a difficult task.

Commandeering a small four wheel drive vehicle Scott and Gordon made their way out onto the track, easily quashing any resistance Officials presented. They approached the coned off area that signified the accident scene.

"That's Alan's car!" Gordon took a deep breath as Scott pulled the vehicle to a halt. Not daring to look at the wreck. "Oh God!" Gordon groaned as he took in the smashed wing and back bumper. The whole car at the front was crumbled up like nothing more than a piece of paper. He didn't spare a glance to the other crumbled up piece of metal. Instead, his eyes were glued to the salvage sheet that had been laid over the roofs, preventing anyone from seeing in.

"You stay here." Scott ordered as he jumped out of the vehicle. Gordon didn't acknowledge the order. Despite his military experience, he had no intention of following his big brother's instructions. He followed Scott at a run, across to the flimsy orange cones that supported plastic 'Do Not Cross' emblazoned tape.

Scott went to duck underneath the tape; a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "I'm sorry Son." An old grey man was telling him. Scott glanced down the fluorescent jacket he wore to identify him as a marshal. "You can't go past there."

"My brother's in that car." Scott pointed to the remains of the red Ferrari. "I have to get through."

"I'm sorry Son." The man was saying again. "You can wait over there." He pointed to a nearby car, orange lights flashing on the top.

"No, I have to…" Scott trailed off as paramedics wheeled a body past them. A body completely covered by a white sheet.

He froze, fresh air no longer finding its way to his lungs, his heart rising to the back of his throat. "Oh my God." He whispered inaudibly, closing his eyes as his mind screamed out in outrage. As he opened his eyes again, his gaze drifted around the scene.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. His heart left his throat and welcome air filled his lungs. Two marshals in fluorescent jackets, matching that of the man stood before him ushered a reluctant figure away from the wreckage.

"Alan!" Scott cried as he ran over, Gordon hot on his heels. "Al!" Scott called again, as his youngest brother turned to face him.

"Scott!" A dazed young man walked unsteadily towards his brothers.

Scott sighed heartily as he pulled the young blonde man into a tight embrace.

"It's alright. It's okay." He could feel Alan's trembling body against his and rubbed his back soothingly. Placing gentle, comforting kisses in his brother's hair. For more than a few minutes he just held him tightly, reassuring himself as much as Alan that the younger man was okay. He had effectively brought Alan up and at times felt more like a father to him than an older brother. The relief he felt was complete. He glanced up to Gordon, whose features matched his own with relief.

A marshal handed over Alan's scuffed crash helmet and hood to which Gordon nodded curtly. The redhead took in a deep breath and desperately concentrated on what the marshal was saying. Before nodding at Scott's gesture to move Alan towards their commandeered vehicle.

"It's okay Al, you're alright." Scott pulled away from the embrace, dropping his hands to cup Alan's face. "Come on; let's get you out of here." He placed one arm around his brothers shaking shoulders as he guided him towards the waiting vehicle. Opening the passenger door, he ushered his youngest brother to sit down and knelt alongside him.

"Here." Gordon handed Scott a bottle of cooled water from the foot well, noticing just how red Alan was.

Scott nodded his thanks, flipping the top off and placing Alan's hands around it. "Drink some of this." He raised the bottle in Alan's hands to his brother's lips. "Come on Al, drink it. It'll help cool you down." He encouraged, but his brother remained in a daze like state; not moving or saying anything.

"What's wrong with him?" Gordon asked, alarmed. "Al, say something?" He squatted down next to Scott and reached a hand out to his younger brother's knee. "Jesus, you're shaking!"

"He's in shock." Scott told him, taking the water away from Alan's hands. "We need to get a Doctor to look at him, and find Dad too."

"That marshal said paramedics have checked him over and that he was okay, but we should probably take him to the Medical Unit." Gordon informed his older brother.

Alan mumbled something that caused Gordon and Scott to exchange looks, before looking down to their brother simultaneously.

"What was that Al?" Scott asked gently as two equally devastated blue orbs met his. He reached out to take Alan's hands in his own.

"I'm so sorry Scott." He whispered, gulping.

"Sorry?" Gordon frowned. "You've got nothing to be sorry for Alan."

"The… The car…" He trailed off, breathing unsteadily.

Scott reached forward to grasp his shoulder but the blonde man flinched away, the bruises already making themselves known. "We don't give a damn about the car Al, you're okay. That's all that matters." Scott told him firmly.

"But…" Alan paused, glancing up to both his brothers in turn. "The car… it… I'm so sorry Scott." He paused, his eyes suddenly widening. Almost as if he'd just noticed that Scott didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "Virgil!" He exclaimed. "I'm so sorry." He repeated, shaking more violently.

"Virgil?" Scott frowned, glancing at Gordon. He was suddenly concerned that Alan was concussed and endeavoured to clear his confusion. "Virgil's with Sam in the paddock waiting for you. Remember?"

"No." Alan whined, his eyes becoming moist. His lips trembled.

"No?" Gordon frowned, a questioning grin on his lips. The more he watched Alan's behaviour the more concerned he became. Alan wasn't normally one to let his emotions get the better of him, not like this anyway. He got angry, but never upset and definitely not in public. Nor, for that matter, in front of any of his older brothers. Such was his determination to prove his maturity. Gordon began to realise how serious this was, with a sudden sinking feeling in his gut.

Scott's frown was now fading fast, instead anxiousness settled across his features.

"Alan?" Scott questioned, his eyes becoming wide. "Alan what is it?" He took a few deep breaths to try to calm himself, but he couldn't help the dread circling in the pit of his stomach.

Gordon threw his oldest brother a questioning glance as Scott cupped Alan's face again. "Talk to me Al." He told his brother firmly, his eyes pleading for an answer. The thought of Alan being hurt was bad enough but Virgil too; the concept was unthinkable to Scott. "Where is he? Where's Virgil?"

"He told me…" Alan's breathing was becoming more haggard as he spoke. "He was… I never …"

"Al! Alan!" Scott tried to soothe him; rubbing his thumbs over his youngest brothers hands were he now clutched them. "It's alright, calm down. Just take a few deep breaths. It's okay." He paused, eyes glancing up at Gordon and failing to conceal his anxiety. "Where is he?"

Alan took several more haggard, deep breaths before any reply came. "I'm so sorry Scott…" He snivelled, his eyes becoming moist again. "He was in the car, and he never got out."

Scott froze; the image of those paramedics pushing a corpse passed flew into his thinking. Replaying itself without mercy. He refocused, pushing the image away along with the thoughts his overactive imagination was providing. He studied his youngest brother, eyes filled with tears that were more than ready to fall. Alan still shook violently and now the pure, unadulterated fear that covered his features broke Scott's heart.

"In the car?" Scott questioned urgently, needing conformation. "Alan?" He prompted when no reply came quickly enough.

Alan sobbed a muffled reply as he dropped his head, flopping forward until his head rested against Scott's chest. Horrified at the revelation, Scott automatically brought his arms up to embrace his youngest brother. His eyes roved the wreckage of both cars as the thoughts he had pushed back before returned with vengeance. Gordon's hand on his shoulder served as a reminder of his presence.

"They took a body out. A dead body." Gordon swallowed, his eyes searching Scott's for some kind of assurance.

"I know." The low response came as he forced Alan into Gordon's arms. "Get him checked out by a doctor." Scott stood, swallowing and allowing the mask of indifference to slip into place. He began to walk away, ignoring Gordon's cries.

"Scott!" "Scott where are you going?" "Scott come back!"

The run across to the shell of the cars was a blur to Scott. He had only one thing on his mind; to get to his brother. Jumping the tape and cones, he approached the area the salvage sheet covered. He was just in time to see a stretcher lowered through the window. Its contents though deadly still, was strapped securely to an orange plastic backboard, head and neck immobilised.

"Easy!" One paramedic was calling as he guided the unit safely away from the wreckage, waving his hand and gesturing to continue the movement. Eventually eight pairs of hands grasped the board, guiding it until it rested on a waiting stretcher.

"Virgil." Scott's heart thumped against his chest, echoing in his ears. His whispered words went unheard in the chaos. His movement ceased as the sight before his eyes slowly infiltrated his brain.

"Virgil!" The shout came out in a higher pitch then he'd intended. The panic he'd previously concealed suddenly came to the surface as he ran across to the stretcher.

"Whoa, slow down there mate." Suddenly another marshal was stood in front of him. A hand on either shoulder; steadfastly stopping him in his quest. "How did you get through the cordon?" He frowned.

Scott tried to push past him, but his attempts were unsuccessful. "He's my brother!" Scott explained. "Let me through!"

"I'm sorry Sir, but I can't let you through." The marshal frowned sympathetically. "Look, why don't you go and wait over there." He pointed to where Gordon still had his arms wrapped around Alan, perched in the waiting four-wheel drive vehicle. Other official cars loitered in the area.

"Is he alright?" Scott persisted, still trying to push passed. He managed to catch a glimpse as paramedics rolled his brother towards a waiting ambulance. "Can't I go with him?"

"I'm sorry son, he's in good hands." Scott felt the marshal squeeze his shoulder slightly. "Listen, they'll take him over to Area 39, it's the assigned Medical Unit." He paused; wanting to be sure the information was sinking in. "You need to head over there. Okay?"

Scott nodded. "Thank you." Turning he jogged over to where John had joined Gordon, noting a second vehicle parked nearby and his father getting out.

As he approached, his father walked to meet him. "Scott?" Scott fell in step with his father walking by his side. "How's the car?" Scott frowned at the question, surprised that something as material as a car rated so highly on his father's list of priorities in such a situation.

"The car?" Scott shook his head. "I've no idea. It's just a car."

Jeff harrumphed, shaking his head. "A marshal told Sam it looks like it's the transmission again. Damn thing! He told Alan to go easy but I'll bet he was pushing it, you know what he's like…" Scott suddenly realised that his father must not realise the severity of the situation. "More expense! I wonder how much this one'll cost…"

"Dad!" Scott placed a hand on his father's arm, preventing them from walking any further. Jeff faced his son; surprised by the sudden contact he looked at Scott expectantly. "I don't think you realise how serious this is."

Jeff frowned to look up to his oldest son. "Alan's okay isn't he?" He glanced across to where John and Gordon tried to restrain the young man, who was gesturing to Scott and attempting to break free.

"Err." Scott coughed, clearing his suddenly dry throat. "Yeah, yeah. He's shaken up but he's okay." He paused. "Dad," He bit his lip and swallowed hard, unsure how to break the news to his father. "Virgil was in the car."

Jeff's head snapped up, eyes wide. "What?" He swung round to look at the remains of the cars. "How? What the hell was he doing?" Scott shrugged indicative that he didn't know. "Is he alright? Where is he now?" Jeff glanced to where the others stood, searching for his second eldest son.

"I don't know Dad; they wouldn't let me anywhere near him. They're taking him to Area 39, we need to get there." Scott began walking away, knowing his father would follow.

Area 39 amounted to a paddock that had been converted into a makeshift first aid centre. Scott opened the door with a forceful bang as he hurried in. "Gordon, John." He turned to his brothers, stood behind him supporting Alan. "Make sure he gets checked out, will you?"

"Sure." John nodded, assuming control as he and Gordon led their younger brother away. "Let us know about Virgil, as soon as, okay?"

Scott agreed, noting that despite the ease with which John obeyed Scott's instructions, his eyes illustrated that he was far from happy at the situation.

By the time Scott had ensured Alan was going to be taken care of medically, Jeff had already intercepted a medic and was being led to his second eldest son. Scott hurried to his side.

They were led to a curtained off area as the medic, a young nurse, explained the situation. "The Doctor's with him now. He wants to send him to hospital just to be on the safe side, that was a nasty smash. We're just waiting on an ambulance." She paused. "If you'll just wait here. I'll see if the Doctor's finished." She disappeared in a split between the curtains and reappeared a few minutes later, an older man in tow.

"Mr Tracy." He held out a hand, which Jeff shook before turning to Scott. "And you must be Alan."

Scott coughed. "Err, no. I'm Scott, I'm his brother."

The Doctor scratched his chin, pressing along his white moustache. "Oh, funny I'm sure he said… never mind." He frowned.

"Is he all right Doctor?" Jeff frowned, his concern more than showing.

"Well, he was unconscious at the scene so I'm recommending he go to A and E. I believe he may have a hairline fracture to his left wrist." Again, he pressed his moustache smoothly. "Quite a few severe bruises, mostly instigated by the seat belt restraints. I am slightly concerned that he may have cracked a rib or two, his ribs and abdomen are particularly badly bruised."

"He is conscious now though?" Scott asked.

"Oh yes." The white haired Doctor nodded. "Yes, but he's not completely coherent. Feel free to go in and sit with him. Due to the limited resources here, I haven't been able to rule out a spinal injury. Though I think it unlikely, I haven't removed the restraints."

That was all Scott needed to hear. As his father continued to talk to the doctor, he slipped between the curtains. Scott frowned as he walked round to his brothers left side. Virgil's eyes were closed; his neck immobilised due to the cervical collar, and tape across his forehead prevented his head from moving. A thin blanket rested over the restraints that held him to the brightly coloured backboard securely. Scott hesitantly reached a hand out to his brother's shoulder as he looked up for any sign of movement. When none came, he placed his other hand on Virgil's forehead, weaving over the tape.

"Virgil?" His tone remained soft; his eyes glued to his brothers closed lids expectant of some kind of acknowledgement. He remembered the doctor's words; 'not completely coherent.'

Virgil blinked his eyes open cautiously. "Hey." He smiled, allowing his eyelids to close of their own accord again.

"Hey." Scott smiled down softly. "You all right?" He was more relieved by that one word then he would ever be prepared to admit.

Virgil tried to nod out of habit however, the tape and cervical collar prevented him and he blinked again. "Yeah." He swallowed, moistening his lips. "How's Al?"

"The doctor's looking at him now. He's worried about you, we all are but I think he's just shaken up." Scott frowned as Virgil's eyes closed again.

He coughed slightly. "He's not the only one." The younger man smiled. "I couldn't sign my name straight right now."

Scott laughed at the comment, causing his brother to wince. "Sorry." Scott apologised. "Headache?" He enquired.

"Yeah." Virgil looked up to his brother uncomfortably, finding the bodily restraint awkward. "A bit."

"Are you in pain anywhere else?" Scott asked, suddenly aware that his brother might be concealing just how injured he was.

Virgil moistened his lips again, allowing his eyes to close once more. "I'm okay Scott, I've had worse."

"Yeah when?" Scott frowned. Not at all liking the frequency with which his brother's eyes were drifting closed.

"Hey, I survived god knows how many summers with you in Kansas didn't I?" Virgil joked.

"Virg…" Scott squeezed his brother's shoulder slightly.

"Argh!" Virgil groaned as a result.

"Sorry!" Scott instantly withdrew his grip, realising the pain he was inflicting on his brothers abused shoulder. "Do you want me to get a doctor?"

"No." Virgil recognized the reply came too soon. "It's alright; they've done everything they can."

Scott's frown deepened at his brothers exhausted tone of voice. "How bad is it really?" He asked softly, reaching down to Virgil's uninjured hand. He stopped short of reaching out for it, satisfied to rest his hand nearby.

Virgil swallowed, his eyes blinking heavily once more. "The headache's not bad; it's the ribs that hurt the most."

"Safety harness?" Scott asked.

Virgil moistened his lips again, "Yeah."

Scott opened his mouth to reply but halted as their father made an appearance.

"Virgil," He looked down to his son, a frown of sympathy playing on his tired features. "How are you son?"

Virgil opened his eyes briefly, "I've been better but I'm alright."

"Do you remember what happened?" Virgil cracked his eyes open at the question as if it was something he hadn't thought of before.

"I err…" He coughed uncomfortably. "I told him to change down for the corner." Scott exchanged concerned glances with their father as Virgil paused to allow his eyes to close and swallow again. "Then we were spinning, I … I remember … we were spinning really fast." He frowned as if trying to recollect the details. "We must have hit something on Alan's side …" He looked across to Scott, who nodded that his assumption was correct. From the damage to the car it was evident they'd spun. "The impact must've flipped us out, because we were slowing down…" He added thoughtfully, he looked up to see expectant faces. "The err, the blue one, Mark, he'd been too close all the way round. Right on Al's tail. He was coming right at us." He paused again looking up to his father and Scott, before his vision settled back on Jeff. "He hit us, didn't he?"

Jeff nodded gently, lowering his head. "Yes Son, he did."

"Do you remember anything else?" Scott asked, Virgil had to smile at the concern in his eyes. No matter how he tried to hide how he felt sometimes his eyes always betrayed him.

"No." Virgil told him after a short pause to consider his options; he wasn't ready to talk about the rest just yet. "I guess I must have passed out." He sighed, if he could have shaken his head in exasperation he would have. However, he could only settle for hoping that his deceit wasn't too obvious. "He was so close to Alan's tail, I'll bet he didn't even have chance to react!" Virgil cursed. It took Scott a few minutes to figure out he was referring to the driver of the blue car.

"You mean Mark Jamison, Son?" Jeff asked solemnly.

"Yeah." Virgil swallowed again, closing his eyes once more. Jeff looked across to Scott questioningly, as if to ask if this fatigue was normal. No answer came though; in fact, Scott's eyes mirrored his. "He was too close." Virgil paused. "He was doing it on purpose." He continued before Jeff or Scott could speak. "Trying to intimidate Al, he's jealous of him. You'd love him Scott." Virgil growled, opening his eyes to take in the dual solemn expressions from his older brother and father. "What?" He frowned but his illusion had been shattered and somehow he already knew what was coming.

"Virgil," Jeff began. "Mark Jamison is dead, son."

Virgil's expression faded slowly. "Dead?"

"He was killed in the crash Virg." Scott told his brother softly, his hand reaching ever fractionally closer to his brother's.

"Killed?" Virgil struggled with the information. He sighed, closing his eyes as the shock really began to sink in. Despite what had happened after the impact, he'd still managed to convince himself that if he could have survived, Mark could have too. Deep down though, he had to admit, he'd always known. He looked up to Scott, "You said Al was okay."

Scott shook his head. "He's just a bit shaken up that's all." When Virgil frowned and opened his mouth to reply, Scott continued. "He doesn't know about Mark."

Virgil sighed deeply and then winced as his ribs protested.

"Hey, you alright?" Scott frowned; he moved his hand intent on grasping his brothers. However, Virgil's eyes opened and Scott stopped, leaving his hand hovering in mid air.

"Yeah, yeah." Virgil breathed heavily; meeting both the concerned glances he was faced with. "Just my ribs are a bit sore that's all." He explained, brushing their concern off.

"What were you doing in the car anyway son?" Jeff asked after a long pause.

"It was only the warm up; I was helping him with the gears. Alan said he wanted me to talk him through it, there's a hair pin corner a bit further round. He was worried he was losing time because he was changing down too soon." Virgil told them. "Alan's not going to take it well." Virgil predicted glancing up at Scott, as best he could when he couldn't move his head or shoulders to turn in his brother's direction.

"Are you going to be okay if Scott goes with you to the hospital? I want to make sure Alan's okay and we need to make arrangements for the car. I think the news about Mark would be better coming from me." Jeff glanced up to Scott for conformation that he agreed.

"We'll be fine Dad." Scott urged. "You stay with Al." Eager to remain with Virgil, and for his father not to insist on their roles being reversed.

"Are you okay with that Virgil?" Jeff queried, looking down at his injured son with a frown.

"Sure Dad." Came the bleary reply, once again Virgil's eyes closed automatically.

"Don't worry Father," Scott assured him. "I'll take care of him." Virgil opened his eyes long enough to let them role back into his head at Scott's predictable response.

Another head appeared between the flimsy curtains that privatised the small areas.

"Hi, my name's Kelly. I'm a paramedic; we're going to take you to hospital." She smiled at Virgil before looking up at Scott immediately raising her eyebrows flirtatiously.

Jeff smiled down to his second eldest son, he placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "Son," Along with an accompanying wince, it had the desired effect; Virgil looked up to him. "Are you sure you're going to be alright?"

Virgil smiled tiredly. "I'll be fine Dad."

Jeff smiled hesitantly as another paramedic appeared and went about the task of pushing Virgil towards the waiting ambulance. Jeff watched on as Scott kept pace with the travelling stretcher, chatting amicably with the paramedic's though the frown of concern didn't leave his features. Sighing himself, Jeff went in search of his youngest son.

XxxxX

"Don't go to sleep." Virgil could hear the anxiousness in the tone. "You heard what that paramedic said." Scott warned him. Virgil had no doubt that should he work up the energy and courage needed to open his eyes, his brother would be giving him a familiar frown of concern.

The journey to the hospital had been uneventful for Scott, however Virgil was already fed up of being prodded and pocked in painful areas. They'd eventually been left in an area not dissimilar to the one at Area 39. Only this time they knew the curtained off square belonged in the A and E department of an actual hospital, not a shabbily kept, oily floored paddock.

"I'm not asleep." Virgil told him, not even attempting to open his eyes to prove it to his brother.

"Open your eyes then." Scott persisted.

Virgil sighed, before screwing his face up against the movement to his abused ribs. "I can't." He admitted softly. Scott's frown of concerned had turned to one of sympathy as he watched his brother wince with every movement that caused him pain. However, on hearing those words it was back to alarmed concerned.

"What do you mean you can't?" He asked, his shocked eyes riveted to his brothers. Almost as if he could see through the lids and read the soft brown eyes that lay beneath as easily as he normally would.

"Scott." Virgil swallowed, summoning all his patience. "The room's spinning. Believe me, if I open my eyes I will be sick."

Scott opened his mouth to retaliate but before he had chance, the curtains parted and a man and a woman walked in.

"Good Afternoon, Mr Tracy. My name is Dr Williams and this is Molly. We'll be taking care of you." He held out his hand expectedly as the young woman passed him a clipboard. He took out a pair of glasses from the top pocket of his stark, white coat and placed them at the end of his nose. Reading over the information carefully, before looking down to Virgil who cautiously opened his eyes. "Well you have been in the wars." Dr Williams smiled as he reached out to feel along Virgil's jaw line. "Any dizziness or nausea?"

Virgil swallowed, blinking tiredly. "Yeah, both."

"Ah ha," The doctor hand a held out to Molly. "Pencil light." She passed it to him accordingly and Scott began to wonder if she was a nurse or just the Doctors assistant.

Meanwhile Dr Williams was continuing in his evaluation. "Close your eyes." He told Virgil as he leaned over him. He attempted to prize one of his patient's eyes open but the tense muscles reacted. "Just relax." He said in a surprisingly soothing tone as he shone the light into Virgil's eyes.

"Hmm, no sign of any significant head trauma." He spoke to himself, as the light was discarded and he reached through the gaps in the cervical collar to press around Virgil's neck with his cold hands. "Were you wearing a crash helmet?"

"Yeah." Virgil's answer just came as he hit a soft spot and he sucked in a breath, the doctor pulled back to look down at his immobilised patient.

"Is that sore?"

"It aches, but I ache everywhere." Virgil told him truthfully.

Dr Williams nodded. A small smirk on his features. "Okay," He moved down Virgil's body to his collarbone, pressing against the bruises as again, Virgil recoiled. In response Dr Williams pulled down the collar of the thin t-shirt Virgil wore to get a better look.

"Hmm, looks like the restraints held you in place pretty firmly." He surmised as he eyed the angry bruising that had already formed dark red marks. He let go of the collar and took the hem of the shirt, pushing it up to reveal yet more bruises. Scott creased his brow in disgust; an X shape of bruising had formed across his brother's chest where the seatbelt harness had proved effective. Across Virgil's shoulders and the top of his chest and abdomen, the red patches had already darkened to form solid bruising. As the doctor reached out and applied gentle pressure to the damaged skin and battered ribs, Scott watched his brother grimace with every painful touch the examination inflicted.

"Well," Dr Williams positioned himself so that Virgil could see him. "It seems to me that you've got some severe bruising here but I can't feel any breaks. We'll get some X-rays done just to be sure." He nodded to Molly, who obediently wrote the information down. "I'm just going to check that there isn't any internal bleeding in your abdomen."

Again, Scott watched as Virgil's face contorted. Though this time it was the discomfort not the pain that was the cause. He glanced sympathetically up to his brother but stood at the foot of the bed and due to the restrictions; Virgil couldn't see him.

When Virgil drew in a short, sharp breath, Dr Williams ordered Molly to fetch a machine, which to Scott looked like an ultrasound. He glanced around, conscious of the fact that he could do nothing to help. He merely watched as Virgil's shirt was pushed up further and the racing suit he still wore lowered for access to the abdomen. The machine seemed to run smoothly over the gel covered area and soon enough it was bleeping and spewing out paper accordingly. Taking the reading and in turn looking at the information gathered on the computerised flip screen, Dr Williams turned to face Virgil's chin.

"Well, there doesn't seem to be any internal bleeding, but I'd like to run those scans anyway and an X-ray of the left wrist." Molly, who Scott noted hadn't spoken, wrote hurriedly on the clipboard before nodding and disappearing.

With Molly's exit, Scott moved closer to his brother. Watching as Dr Williams removed the plastic gloves he wore with a snap. He looked down to see Virgil's eyes had closed again. "Can you give him anything for the pain Doctor? Or the dizziness?" Scott asked.

Dr Williams turned back. "When we get the results of the scans back I'll administer some pain medication. If the dizziness hasn't improved, I could give him a mild sedative but it'd knock him out for a while. Anyhow, I want to rule out any further injuries before I do that."

Scott's eyes widened. "Further injuries? You think there could be something else wrong?"

"No, not at all." Doctor Williams replied steadily. "I just want to make sure, it's merely a precaution."

As he turned to leave Molly reappeared. "The scanner's free now, so I'll just clean you up and I'll take you down."

Virgil opened his eyes to see Scott looking anxiously down at him. He felt cold hands at work removing the gel with a paper towel and pulling his shirt back down. "Will you call Dad? Find out how Alan's doing?" Scott looked down at his brother.

It was rare he ever denied Virgil anything; he just simply couldn't refuse his mother on the outside and his best friend on the inside. He sighed, truly, the thought had crossed his mind to ring and see what was happening. Nevertheless, he wasn't too confident about leaving his brother alone.

Virgil obviously sensed that. "I'll be fine; I just want to make sure he's okay." Virgil's closed eyes told his brother.

Scott nodded, looking up to Molly he asked. "How long will these scans take?"

"About twenty minutes." She replied curtly. "There's a café, if you go through reception and turn right."

Virgil cracked an eye open. "Call Dad, then go and get a coffee."

Scott smirked at his words, was his brother trying to order him around? He grinned slightly; ever since their childhood, they had made a formidable team. Mainly due to the fact that whatever instruction Scott gave, he could always rely on his brother to see it through. Not to mention the fact that they had both tried hard together to fill the gap their mother left. Of course, they could never fully succeed.

Scott nodded mutely as a few other bodies appeared and Virgil was rolled away. He headed outside to call his father.

"Scott, what's wrong?" The reply was instant; he'd barely listened to a single ring of the videophone.

Scott was taken aback by the sudden answer and the unusual unease in his father's tone of voice. "Nothing Dad." He reassured him. "Nothing's wrong, they've just taken Virgil for some scans. How's Al?"

Jeff sighed, the tension in his body leaving him all at once. "The Doctor looked him over. Said its mostly bruising, his chest from the seatbelt and his shoulder. He felt a bit faint earlier so John and Gordon have taken him back to the hotel. He needs to rest."

Scott nodded. "Did you tell him about Mark?" He enquired cautiously.

Jeff sighed again. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. He didn't take it too well. Gordon was there, thank goodness." Jeff kneaded his eyes. "He won't admit it, he's pretending he's okay but I think he feels responsible."

Scott nodded, and then took to shaking his head solemnly. "I can't believe all this has happened. To think, either of them could've been killed too." He paused. "We could have lost them Dad."

"I know Scott, but we can't dwell on it. We have to focus on the here and now. Alan's shaken up and upset but we'll get through it." Jeff said determinedly. "How's Virgil?"

"Well, they're taken him for these scans and an X-ray of his wrist and ribs. The doctor seemed to think it was mostly bruising. It's bad though, you should the mess those restraints have made; he's got bruises all the way across his chest." Scott paused, thinking. "What I don't get is why Virgil's needs to come here and get checked out yet Al's okay, it makes me nervous."

"Alan says Virgil told him to get out once the car started to slow down from the spin. Alan jumped, but from what I can gather Virgil didn't." Jeff informed his oldest son.

"That was a mighty brave thing for Alan to do." Scott thought aloud. "Is that how he hurt his shoulder?" When Jeff nodded, Scott went on. "And that's why Virgil's more bruised then he is. Do they know what happened yet?"

"Sam's here now." Jeff replied in answer to the question. "He says he checked out everything he can think of that would cause a spin like that. Tyres were a – okay, what's left of the brakes weren't faulty. He seems to think that somehow the car selected second, not fourth but there's no way of checking. The car's so badly smashed up at the front and side that there's no way we can jack it up and get a good look. Not safely."

"Could it be the transmission that's the fault? I mean it's not like we haven't had problems with it before." Scott suggested.

"I know, but it's only just been rebuilt Scott. And not just by anyone either. Ferrari US did all the work; they should know what they're doing."

Scott's eyes became narrow. "What are you saying Dad? Are you seriously considering the idea that Alan could have put the car in second?"

Jeff shrugged. "I don't know Scott. We just have to wait and see what the crash investigation team say. Whatever the outcome, somebody died today and there's going to be serious repercussions." He paused. "The crash investigation is already underway. I managed to convince them Virgil and Alan weren't in any fit state to be interviewed."

"Whoa! Hold on a minute." Scott's eyes widened. "But it was an accident, why the investigation?"

"Scott," Jeff lowered his tone. "Whenever there's a death on the track there's a mandatory investigation, there may even be an inquest. Somebody was responsible for this and the Jamison family have already made it perfectly clear that they want justice."

"How do you mean?" Scott frowned, intrigued by that comment.

"I mean, Mark's brother has already torn a strip off Sam, claiming he was incompetent." He shook his head. "This isn't going to go away Scott and it isn't going to be pretty either."


	3. Sedation & Deflection

Authors Note: Perhaps I should have made this more obvious, but when I said TV verse, I meant the original TV series. Virgil is the second eldest. I believe it was Carlton, who now own the rights to Thunderbirds who switched the birth order. Hence, I have taken the birth order from John Marriott's 'Thunderbirds Are Go'. Just thought it best to make that clear.

Many thanks to everyone who's reviewed, it's always appreciated and please continue to do so. I like to know what the readers are thinking/feeling and value the time anyone take to leave a review.

Chapter Three – Sedation and Deflection

Scott headed back into the hospital in a much more sombre mood. By the time he'd reached Virgil, he'd had more than adequate time to consider the implications of what his father had told him. He swiftly concluded that they may be approaching the end of what had been a harrowing day, but the ordeal was only just beginning.

He approached Virgil, noticing his brother's eyes remained closed. He wondered if Virgil knew he was there and tried not to startle his brother as he rested a hand on his arm.

"Virgil? You alright?" Despite his effort, he couldn't hide the childish concern from his voice. He cursed his lack of control around this particular brother.

The younger man opened his eyes cautiously confirming the figure above him was Scott and allowed them to close again before commenting. "Yeah." He said finally, moistening his lips as he did. "How's Al?"

Scott sighed. "Doctor says it's just bruising, he's with Gordy and John back at the hotel. Dads making the arrangements for the car now. You didn't tell me you told him to jump."

Virgil grimaced at the words. "My harness was jammed; there was no point in both of us getting blown to bits."

Scott frowned, "Blown to bits?" He queried.

"The revs were sky high Scott, at one point I thought maybe the engine was going to blow." Virgil confided as Scott's eyes widened. "Don't do that." Virgil chided, eyes still closed.

"What?" Scott asked incredulously, Virgil's eyes remained closed.

"Give me that look. The 'Oh my god, it was that serious' look." He paused, not seeing the smirk develop on Scott's face. "I'm ok, Al's okay. We can deal with the rest."

"I hope so." The words left Scott's lips before he'd thought them through and afterwards he immediately regretted muttering them. Virgil didn't need the added stress of knowing about the investigation. Not yet, anyway.

"What does that mean?" Virgil asked, cracking one eye open to look up at his brother.

Scott kicked himself mentally. He loved Virgil to bits; he was his best friend as well as his brother. The one thing that frustrated him though, about this particular brother, was this ability he had to automatically make him drop his guard.

"Nothing." Scott tried to cover himself but he already knew it was too late. He could never hide anything from Virgil. Ever.

"Don't lie to me." There was an edge to Virgil's voice that Scott disliked. It wasn't something that he heard often but at the moment, it was telling him his brother was tired, hurt and frustrated. Not a mood to mess with. Scott knew there would be ructions if the truth didn't transpire soon.

Finally, he conceded. "It's …"

He paused as the doctor walked back in, clipboard in hand. Sighing gratefully, Scott smiled. The old man didn't have a clue what he'd just prevented but the relief on Scott's face was obvious. He glanced down at his brother long enough to notice that Virgil was staring up at him, just to let him know that the conversation wasn't over yet.

"Well, we should get the results of the scans in about half an hour. If they're clear, I'll get someone to remove these." He tapped on the plastic cervical collar that prevented Virgil from moving. Having learnt to pick up on the 'trivialities' from his training. Scott noted the fact that someone else would be doing the removing and not the doctor himself. Scott had noticed he was what their father termed a 'money man' as opposed to being hands-on.

"In the meantime we'll give you something for the pain." The doctor paused; Scott glanced down to his brother again. On seeing his eyes firmly closed he was about to ask about the dizziness when the question came from the doctor himself. Though his personality was certainly lacking in places, Scott couldn't fault his care.

"How's the dizziness? Still feeling nauseous?"

Virgil's reply came after a short pause. "Yep, both. In fact I think it's getting worse."

"Well, I can give you a mild sedative, that will clear your head but it'll also knock you out for a few hours. And you may feel the after effects tomorrow. Or you can ride it out, the decisions yours." Dr Williams looked down expectantly.

"Okay, do it." A small reply came from the bed.

Scott was so sure his brother would decline the offer of assistance in the form of a drug, that he'd already begun an attempt to change his mind verbally. He snapped his mouth shut and disguised the sound he'd already made with a short sharp cough.

Dr Williams returned a few minutes later, syringe in hand. He continued to take Virgil's arm and administer the medication, talking as he did. Scott found himself looking away subconsciously as a long needle was inserted into his brother's arm and the clear liquid deposited. "Don't try and stay awake, just let the drug take control."

He turned back to Scott, who'd found a chair. "I'll be back in a few minutes he should be asleep by then."

Scott nodded but turned his attention to his brother, still getting over the fact that Virgil had so easily accepted the sedative. It prayed on his mind.

"Is the dizziness really that bad?" He asked softly.

"Worse." Virgil slurred the sedative beginning to take control of his exhausted mind already. He opened his eyes briefly, "Wha' did you mea' …"

Scott frowned. "What did I mean?" He asked, watching as his brother's eyelashes fluttered before his eyelids sealed in sleep. Sighing Scott sat back in the chair, content to watch as his brother slept peacefully. Until his brain went back to considering the consequences that today could have on his family. He thought about calling John or Gordon, to see how Alan really was. Not doubting for a moment that his father's knowledge of the situation would have been tainted. However, he didn't want to leave Virgil or disturb him, and decided against it for the moment. Instead, he settled in for the wait, more than comfortable to remain guarding his brother's drug induced rest for now.

XxxxX

Leaning against the door of their shared hotel room, Gordon Tracy watched his younger brother's every move. The blonde figure, clad in jeans and a white shirt after shedding his racing suit was laid out on the bed. By all accounts, the youngest Tracy was asleep; however, the figure Gordon watched so intently was very much awake.

"Quit staring. I'm not going anywhere." Alan grumbled harshly. Gordon bit his lip; surprised that Alan had even noticed he was stood there. Sighing, he pushed himself away from the doorpost and walked over to his brother.

"I thought Dad told you to get some rest." He patted Alan's thigh twice in a gesture for his brother to move over and allow him to sit down; Alan obliged. "John said you were asleep."

"Yeah, well John thinks I am." Alan said sullenly.

"And you're not because …" Gordon raised his eyebrows, shaking his head and holding his hands out; expectant of an answer.

Alan shrugged, he tried not to show it but Gordon knew his shoulder was causing him a lot of pain. "I'm just not tired."

Gordon nodded, but remained a long way off actually accepting the answer. "It's been a hell of a day; I thought you'd be exhausted." He paused, watching Alan's reaction. "Is your shoulder hurting?"

Alan shrugged again, despite the fact that it'd caused him pain the last time. "Not really." He lied. There was a pause. Gordon purposely didn't speak, leaving Alan to fill the silences. "Have you heard anything from the hospital yet?"

Gordon sighed. "Yeah." He knew Alan was worried about Virgil, they all had been. "The doctor said it's just bruising, they'll let him go as soon as he wakes up."

Alan frowned. "Wakes up?"

Gordon sighed again; his brother wasn't going to like this. "They sedated him." He told the young blonde slowly.

"Sedated!" Alan exclaimed in alarm, sitting up. "Why? What's wrong with him?"

"Whoa! Clam down!" Gordon soothed. "Nothing's wrong with him. He felt really dizzy, they sedated him because it was the best thing to do to clear his head. He should be waking up any minute now and then Scott's going to bring him back here."

"How long before they need picking up?" Alan asked. Gordon watched him carefully. He was obviously forming some sort of plan but for the life of him, Gordon couldn't think what.

He shrugged in reply. "I don't know, a couple of hours. Sam's going to go pick them up. Why?"

"I'll go." Alan replied firmly. "I'll go and pick them up."

"Al, I don't think that's such a good idea." Gordon said cautiously.

"Why not?" Alan asked angrily, frowning and failing to see why Gordon was so reluctant.

"I just think Dad's right; you've had a bad day. Sam can pick them up and you should try and get some sleep." Gordon added gently. "I know you're shoulders painful."

"I told you before I can't sleep!" Alan snapped. "I'm not tired!"

"It's not just that Al." Gordon tried to ignore the snapped tone of voice. "How do you think Scott would react when they came out the hospital to see you sat behind the wheel?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Alan exploded furiously. For a few minutes, Gordon failed to see why the comment had caused such as angry response. Then suddenly, he realised the inadvertent insinuation he'd made.

"Al, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant …"

Alan cut him off. "I know what the hell you meant." He cursed loudly, pulling himself up until he was sat up straight on the bed. "You think it was my fault don't you? You think I caused the accident just like Dad."

"Dad?" Gordon frowned. "Dad doesn't think that."

"Yes he does. He doesn't say it but I know. I know from what he doesn't say that he thinks it's my fault." Gordon winced at his brother's words, their father often implied things in the way he failed to say the things you wanted to hear. "He doesn't say it's not my fault, he says it's an accident." Alan paused and Gordon realised that the reason that his brother couldn't sleep was because he was wound up tighter then a spring. "Well accidents happen for a reason, someone always causes them. Funny how it's always me, huh?"

"Al…" Gordon tried to stop him, noticing how loud his voice was getting. Gordon knew his brother better then most and was familiar with all the shouting, he tried to clam him down. "Alan, listen to me."

"It wasn't my fault. It wasn't." Alan repeated. "I'm not a bad driver; I'm more than capable of picking Scott and Virgil up. Damn it!" He cursed. "I'm a better driver then all of you put together!"

"Al, that's not what I meant. Nobody is saying you're a bad driver and nobody thinks that what happened out there today was your fault. Not me and certainly not Dad." Gordon hoped his brother believed him, they were the only words he could offer at the minute.

He continued on. "I didn't mean it like that; I was just saying that Scott is really worried about you. He's already called John six or seven times since they left for the hospital. God only knows how many times he's called Dad." Gordon paused. "Hell, that's probably why it's taking him so long to make the arrangements for the car; because Scott's calling him every five minutes." Gordon paused, waiting for a grin at the comment from his brother but none came. "John promised him we'd make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine!" Alan interrupted, his eyes wide. "I can still go and pick them up."

"And do you think Scott's going to be happy with us if we let you? Come on Al, he'd kick mine and John's butts into next century." Gordon softened his tone. "We're all worried about Virg, but he's fine. We're all worried about you too."

"Yeah well you shouldn't be." Alan pouted. "I told you, I'm fine." He looked away, avoiding making eye contact with Gordon.

"You're not fine; you're shoulders sore for a start. Al, you know if … …"

"I don't." Alan snapped.

"You don't even know what I was going to say." Gordon waited patiently for his brother to face him.

Alan didn't move. "You were going to say if I wanted to talk, I could talk to you. Well I don't. I don't want to talk okay?"

"Maybe that's why you can't sleep. Stop trying to keep it all inside and let it out. I know you're angry with yourself for being upset earlier. Scott understands, so do I; it was a horrible situation and you're reaction was completely natural." He paused giving Alan the chance to speak, but no reply came. "Talk to me." Gordon knew it was what he needed more than anything, but as usual, he was being too stubborn. Alan knew as well as Gordon did that when he did talk there was the potential for tears to come and Alan was too obstinate to let that happen. Gordon puzzled over why, they were close as brothers go and had both cried in each other's arms before now. A thought suddenly struck him.

"You don't have to prove anything to me Al. I know you're an adult, adults get upset too." Alan had spent his life trying to prove to his older brothers that he wasn't a baby and that there was no need to treat him like one. "It's only natural to feel guilty."

"A couple of years with the WASP's and you think you know it all." Alan snarled bitterly. "I must have missed the part were you got your psychology degree." He added sarcastically. "I'm going to call Dad, see when the cars going to be ready. I wanted to make Belleview in three weeks time." He scooted over to the edge of the bed, and stood up.

"Alan you can't pretend everything's okay. A man died today." Gordon tried to ignore the previous comment, but his fuse was beginning to run short with Alan's incredulous behaviour.

"Yeah well it was his own fault." Alan retorted.

"What?" Gordon swung around on him, facing his brother with intense amber eyes and a deep frown.

"He was too close to me. If he'd held back then he wouldn't have been hurt." Alan said heartlessly as he reached for the 'phone by the bed.

Gordon walked briskly round to the other side of the bed and stood in front of his younger brother. "You did exactly the same thing when you overtook him in the qualifier!"

"We all know the risks. He took a risk and it didn't work out; that's not my fault." Alan shrugged again as he began to dial a number. "I'm sorry he's dead but I'm not about to start beating myself up about something that I couldn't have controlled." He paused. "And I couldn't have controlled it." He tried to convince himself. "It wasn't my fault and I couldn't have stopped it. Nothing I could have done would have made a difference."

Gordon stood there for a few minutes unsure of what to do or say, his surprise at Alan's harsh comments rooting him to the spot. After a few minutes, he was spurred into action, snatching the microphone out of Alan's hand. He reached forward and turned the videophone off, ending the call.

"Hey!" Alan looked up at him. "What did you do that for!" Alan asked stunned by his brother's actions. "I want to know about the car! We've got to get it fixed by Belleview, which only gives us three weeks."

"The car?" Gordon asked dangerously, he took a step forward causing Alan to take an involuntary step back. "You're worried about your damned car?" His eyes virtually glowed with the anger that was contained there. "You are so damned selfish it's unbelievable. Sit down." He ordered.

Alan had noticed how since joining the WASP Gordon thought he could order people around; decidedly, he held his ground making no such movement. "Sit down!" Gordon shouted angrily in his face, roughly pushing a hand out that connected with his injured shoulder forcing him to sit down on the bed. Alan considered standing back up but decided against it, still grimacing at the pain. Gordon rarely got angry with him but when he did it wasn't the best idea to cause the situation to escalate.

Gordon's anger overrode any sympathy he felt towards his brother as the hand connected and Alan winced. Before he was sure his brother was going to stay in the seated position he began. "It may have escaped your notice but a man died today. Do you know what that means Alan? It means that a family are going to have to bury a son, a brother. They're never going to see him again, ever. And you're worried about your car? A couple of grand and it'll be fixed, hell, add another zero and it'll probably be fixed by the end of the week." For a moment Alan seemed pleased at the news before his original surprise at Gordon's outburst regained control of his features. Fears merging into surprise round the edges as he watched Gordon's irritation fester.

"No amount of money is ever going to bring him back." Gordon shook his head. "He's dead Al."

"You don't have to keep saying it. I know." Alan retorted angrily.

"No you don't! You can't! If you did, you wouldn't be acting like this, as if… as if it's inconsequential to you as long as you get your car fixed." Gordon frowned in disgust at his brother. "Have you thought about this? I mean properly thought about it. About what could have happened?"

Gordon could see his younger brother was beginning to get riled by his continuing lecture but had no intention of stopping. Alan needed to hear this.

"Of course I have." Alan told him snappily. "I've thought about nothing else. You've made your point now leave it." He glared up at his brother towering above him, conveying all of the fury he felt.

"No I won't leave it!" Gordon replied loudly. "You said yourself you all take risks out there. You were in exactly the same position he was in the qualifier, what if had happened then…"

"Shut up." Alan glared at his brother angrily, the fury in his eyes would normally have told Gordon to back off but not today.

"You could have been killed!" Gordon yelled in his brother's face.

"Do you think I don't know that?" Alan growled. "Stop it."

"Yes!" Gordon retorted. "I do think you don't know. I don't think you realise how lucky you were out there today! It could so easily have been you that was killed. Us going home with you in a body bag! Our family burying a son, a brother, have you even thought what that would do to us? How Dad would feel? How I would feel?"

"Shut up." Alan clenched his teeth together practically spitting the words out.

"How John, Scott and Virgil would feel?" Gordon wasn't even listening to his younger brother anymore; his tirade was so intense.

"Shut up." Alan said louder, struggling to keep his temper under control; he took laboured breaths trying to steady himself.

"Oh God Virgil! What if it'd been Virgil?" Gordon continued. "How would you feel then huh? Have you thought about that? How easily it could have been Virgil that had died today?"

"Shut up Gordon." Alan was saying again, the tone of his voice reminiscent of a warning.

"How easily it could have been one of you, if not both!" Gordon continued, ignoring Alan's growled orders to stop. "He could have died!" He exclaimed loudly. "You could have died!" Gordon waved his hands randomly in despair at his brother. "Can you imagine not seeing Virgil again? Ever. Huh, can you?"

Something inside Alan snapped and he launched himself to his feet, closing the short distance between them instantly. "I said SHUT UP!" He bellowed, yelling the words into Gordon's face, an inch from his own.

Gordon frowned, as he took in the anger in his brother's wide, unyielding eyes. Anger that was dissipating quickly into despair. "Of course I've thought about it." Alan spat, inching even closer to Gordon's face. "I've thought about nothing else!"

Gordon had wanted a reaction and now, as he watched Alan's eyes cloud with unshed tears he realised maybe he'd pushed too far. He took an involuntary step back as their positions were reversed and suddenly Alan advanced on him.

"Do you think I can think of anything else apart from what could have happened today? Don't you think that every possible eventuality hasn't already gone through my mind a thousand times over? What if I hadn't taken Virgil with me? What if it'd been me that was killed? What could I have done differently?" Alan paused, clamping his mouth shut and pulling his fists into a tight ball. For a second the emotion in his eyes became so intense Gordon couldn't help but automatically brace himself for a possible impact.

However, the moment lapsed and with every second that passed, Alan seemed to become less and less angry and more and more upset. "Why are you doing this!" He screamed into Gordon's face as he sniffed, desperate to fight back tears.

Gordon frowned sympathetically. "Doing what?"

"Making me feel like this!" Alan turned away, breathing raggedly as he sat back on the bed, his head in his hand. "It wasn't my fault." He desperately convinced himself. "It wasn't."

"I'm not making you feel anything Al. I'm just not letting you run away, or hide behind a false sense of not caring." He paused as he sat alongside his brother. "I know you care. I know you don't believe what you just said."

Alan let his head fall until his chin almost touched his chest where he was sitting forward on the bed. His forearms resting on his knees as he fiddled with his fingers. He shook his head very slightly muttering. "I don't."

"I know you're trying to convince yourself that this wasn't your fault and I know blaming Mark makes you feel less guilty. But you don't have to convince yourself or anyone else that this wasn't your fault." Alan smirked despite himself. He should have known better than to think Gordon wouldn't have realised the truth. "It wasn't. It was an accident, a tragic accident; it was not your fault." Gordon edged closer to the younger man, Alan didn't acknowledge the words sniffling instead. Gordon could see he was making a break through. "You might think that by not thinking about it it'll go away but it won't." Gordon paused for a breath.

"I want it to." Alan mumbled.

"I know you do." Gordon told him gently. "But you have to deal with this Al. Pretending that it was all Mark's fault and then running away; that's not dealing with it."

Alan stifled a sob, as he brought a hand up to run over his eyes.

"Hey." Gordon said softly as he reached up and placed his arm around his brother's shoulders. "Come here." He pulled the blonde man into his chest as Alan's shoulders dropped and he cried, gasping for breath as the sobs came more frequently and gained in intensity.

To begin with Alan just let his brother hold him. Then suddenly he clung to Gordon. Bringing his arms up to lock around his brother's neck as he buried his head into the redhead's chest and shook uncontrollably.

"Shh." Gordon comforted. "It's alright." He held him tighter, despite the fact that it was a rarity and that he hated to see any of his brother's upset, he was relieved that the tears had come now. And he rocked Alan slightly as the younger man mumbled.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you Gordy." He sniffled as he gasped for breath the sobbing took away.

"It's alright." Gordon smiled as Alan's blonde hair tickled his chin. "I yelled too. Let's just forget it."

"I'm sorry for the things I said too." He mumbled. "I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't."

"Shh." Gordon rubbed his back as his words disintegrated into sobs again, pulling him closer against his chest as he rocked him.

"I'm not bothered about the car Gordy." Alan pulled his head away from Gordon's shoulder to look up at his brother. "Really I'm not." Gordon nodded; frowning at the bright red, tear streaked face and the eyes that revealed everything to him. "I'm not racing again, I've decided."

Gordon sighed. "Al, just give it some time. You might feel differently later on."

"No." Alan shook his head as tears continued to fall down already red cheeks. "No, I won't. Never again."

Gordon pulled him back into an embrace, he could feel the wet tears seeping through his shirt but he didn't complain. "We'll see." He said softly as Alan's shoulders shook against his chest.

"Every time I …" Alan gasped, taking in a deep breath as he breathed in his brother's scent. "I close my eyes." He stopped, a strangled semi-sob escaping from the very back of his throat. "I'm spinning and all I can hear is Virgil yelling at me to get out."

He dissolved into sobs again and Gordon tightened his hold. "Shh, it's okay. You're okay, Virg is okay, and we'll get through this. It's alright." He rubbed his brother back. "You're safe now. You're safe."

From the doorway, John Tracy frowned. Catching Gordon's eye with a small, soft smile. He watched, as Alan remained oblivious to his presence and wept relentlessly into Gordon's chest. Gordon for his part hid his brother's face away, comforting him with a gentle tone and softly spoken words of reassurance. As Gordon cradled their youngest brother, rocking him slightly John pulled the door closed behind him. Making his way down to find their father and the latest development in this nightmare…


	4. A Scotch & A Skirmish

Authors Note: Many thanks to all those who have reviewed so far, it's greatly appreciated. It's helpful to know what the reader enjoys about a piece of writing and at the same time, what they didn't enjoy. In addition, it's as beneficial to know what doesn't work as it is to know what does. Many thanks again for all the feedback, it's invaluable to me so do please continue.

Chapter Four – A Scotch and A Skirmish

Scott found his eyes drifting closed again, it had been a difficult day for all of them both physically and emotionally but he hadn't expected to feel so exhausted. He glanced up to check his brother was still asleep and allowed a soft smile to tug his lips into formation. Virgil always looked so peaceful when he was asleep, so content and youthful. It reminded Scott of their mother. He remembered when they were young, Virgil used to love being compared to their mother. It used to make him feel important and special. Until she died, then it became a reminder of not just what he'd lost but also why his father distanced himself at times.

Scott glanced at his watch, the doctor had said a couple of hours and Virgil had been asleep for three and a half. He was about to grab the attention of a nearby nurse when the younger man stirred, mumbling as he moved slightly.

Scott moved from his seat and perched on the bed. After the scans and X-rays had all come back clear, the cervical collar and backboard had been removed giving Virgil some ability to move. Which, even in his sleep he was making the most of. Scott watched as he sighed contently and nestled down again into the pillows.

"Virg?" He placed a gentle hand on the top of his brother's arm. "Virgil, wake up."

"Mmm," Virgil sighed, swallowing and pulling his lips together. "Uh huh." He mumbled to no one in particular.

Scott's smile widened. "Come on Virgil." Scott knew he didn't have to wake up; they could wait as long as necessary but he wanted to check that his brother was okay.

Begrudgingly, Virgil's lashes fluttered. The lids opened to reveal cloudy, brown orbs staring back at him.

"Hey." Scott smiled.

"Hey." Virgil frowned, blinking. "I don't remember falling asleep." He puzzled, evidently confused.

"The doctor sedated you. You were dizzy, remember?" Scott asked, concerned by the sudden lack of awareness.

"Yeah, yeah I remember." Virgil told him, coughing a little. "Can I get a drink?"

Scott nodded, reaching over to a tumbler filled with water, a straw poking out the top. "Can you sit up a little?"

"Hey, I can move." Virgil moved his head experimentally.

Scott laughed. "Yeah, the scans came back clear. They took all that off whilst you were asleep. Here." Scott lifted his head slightly and placed the straw to his lips, Virgil gulped down a good half of the contents. "Take it easy." Scott said as pulled the plastic cup away.

"Thanks." Virgil muttered. "How's Al?"

"I spoke to John whilst you were asleep. He said Alan was asleep too, and that Gordy was keeping an eye on him." Scott informed his brother. "I'm going to go and get Dr Williams, he told me to get him when you woke up."

"Scott, what is it you're not telling me?" Virgil asked purposely as Scott walked away.

"I'll be back in a minute." Virgil glowered at the reply; Scott was avoiding telling him something and he was determined to find out what.

Scott returned a few minutes later, Dr Williams in tow. "Okay Mr Tracy, how does the head feel now?"

Virgil smiled slightly. "Much better. I do feel a bit lethargic though."

Dr Williams perched on the edge of the bed. "Well, I'm afraid that's one of the effects of the sedative. You may feel weary, tired, and lethargic as you put it. Your appetite may go a bit but try to eat what you can and drink plenty of fluids. If it's not cleared up in twenty-four hours, come back. In the meantime just get plenty of rest." He paused; to Virgil it looked like he was trying to remember things he had to tell him.

"Your wrists badly bruised and so are your ribs. So take it steady, no heavy lifting, careful movements and no strenuous exercise, lots of rest. You'll need to make a follow up appointment with your own local physician. Keep the bandage on your wrist; you'll need the extra support I'd say for about two weeks. I'll give you this," He handed a piece of paper to Virgil, scrappy writing protruded. "You'll need to take two, twice a day with food, but it should keep the edge off the pain. Take ibuprofen as well."

"Thank you doctor." Virgil smiled at the older man.

"That's quite okay. Any problems you can call this number." He handed Scott a card. "Or come straight back at any time." He paused. "Remember what I said; take it easy, lots of rest."

"Don't worry Dr Williams." Scott smiled, "He will. I'll make sure of it."

The doctor smiled. "Okay, well whenever you're ready. Your clothes and other personal effects are in that cabinet."

Virgil nodded. "Thank you."

"Get dressed." Scott said softly as the doctor left them. "I'll call Sam, he's going to come and pick us up." Scott sighed. "Do you need a hand?"

Virgil shook his head as he passed the prescription to Scott. "No, but will you put this somewhere safe for me."

"Sure." Scott watched as Virgil attempted to roll onto his side to sit himself up.

"Ah." He winced. "Actually Scott." He paused, grimacing at the pain the pressure was causing in his ribs. "Help me up?"

"Sure, come here." He wrapped his arms gently around Virgil's chest as he guided his brother into a sitting position, allowing Virgil to use all the strength he had. Standing back, he looked at his brother. "Are you going to be okay getting dressed, or do you want me to help you?"

Virgil shook his head. "No, I'll be fine. Go and call Sam."

Scott knew it was pride rather then common sense talking. He hoped though, that Virgil would ask for help if he needed it and left him to it.

On his return, he entered the area to see Virgil sat gloomily holding the white shirt he had been wearing earlier, still sat up on the edge of the bed. Scott looked him up and down, he'd managed to get the suit back on and tied it round his hips, which was an achievement considering how tight they could be. However, his feet remained bare and as he looked up to Scott he sighed mournfully.

"It was a lot harder then I thought it was going to be." He confided into Scott's smile. "I can't reach my feet or move my arms above my head without causing every bruised muscle in my body to tap dance."

Scott laughed at the comment. "Come on, I'll help you." He took the pair of socks that sat on the bed and placed Virgil's feet one by one onto his knee as he assigned a sock to each foot then a lightweight boot. "Sam says he'll be about ten minutes." Scott said softly.

"Okay. Thanks." He smiled gratefully at his older brother as Scott stood up.

"You can't move your arms up at all?" Scott asked as he glanced around the room for a solution.

"No, I'm just pleased I was unconscious when they took it off. It would've hurt like hell, I'm surprised they didn't cut it." Scott smiled at the comment as an idea struck him.

"Here." He unzipped the thin, polyester jacket he wore and passed it over to his brother. "Put this on."

Virgil had always been bigger built then his brother and the jacket hugged his chest in places he'd rather it didn't at that precise moment. The zip at the front meant he could actually get it on, so it was better then nothing. He couldn't stop the wince though.

"Too tight?" Scott asked.

Virgil merely shook his head. "No, it'll be fine. Thanks." He managed a small smile. "Can we go?"

Scott nodded; he'd noticed how much pain every movement seemed to cause his brother and how cloudy his eyes still were. The doctor had told him it was just the sedative and that Virgil would appear a little unsteady for the next few hours, but that it was nothing to worry about. Scott had his reservations. "You okay to stand?"

Virgil cautiously slipped off the bed, gently placing weight on his legs. "Guess so." He nodded, as he began the long, unsteady walk towards the reception area and front of the hospital.

Scott had left him waiting for Sam whilst he went to get the prescription filled, in the hope that taking some painkillers would help. The walk had taken them what seemed like forever and if Virgil thought he was tired before, he was exhausted now. Each step had caused vibrations of pain to rattle through his chest and each movement, despite how slow he made them had the same effect. The fact he could feel Scott's anxious expression on him all the time just made him feel worse.

"Hey buddy, how you feeling?" Virgil smiled as Sam sauntered up to him.

"Exhausted, but I'll live." Virgil smiled in reply, surprised by how easily his eyes were dropping.

"Where's Scott?" Sam asked. "It looks like we should be getting you back to the hotel." Sam had obviously picked up on his exhaustion.

"He's just gone to get my medication." Virgil told him.

"Would that be the funny pills or some more medication?" Sam joked.

"Don't make me laugh." Virgil told him. "It hurts. How is everyone?"

"Well," Sam sat down on the wooden bench he'd occupied. "Your father told John and Gordon to take Alan back to the hotel so I haven't seen them. I called John and he said Al's fine but he was asleep. Kenny was at the wedding reception, he took the news quite well actually." Sam paused. "I think he was a bit drunk though. Your dad and I have been trying to get the car loaded up but it's a real mess."

"Yeah, I noticed." Virgil said dryly.

"Anyway, we had a heap of trouble getting it off the circuit for a start and then to make things even worse. After spending over an hour managing to get it in a fit state to load onto the artic." Sam paused for breath. "The Crash Investigation Team have impounded it until it's been looked over by an expert, again."

"Crash Investigation Team?" Virgil frowned. "But it was an accident."

"I know." Sam sighed. "And they've already been over it twice, but they want it impounding while the investigation is ongoing."

"I don't understand." Virgil shook his head. "Investigation into what?"

"Didn't Scott tell you?" Sam frowned, Virgil shook his head suddenly realising that this was probably what Scott had been so reluctant to divulge. "Well, it's mandatory with a death that there's an investigation, to decide whether or not there needs to be an inquest. They'll be looking for what caused the accident, I guess. If it was a mechanical fault with the car or if …"

"If Alan made a mistake." Virgil finished for him, looking up to his friend with surprised eyes. "You don't think that, do you? I mean Al can be a jerk sometimes but he's a good driver."

"I know, I know. If it's any consolation, I don't think he was at fault. I think it's something to do with the transmission. At the end of the day, I'm the mechanic. If there was a fault on the car, Jack's right, I should have noticed it." The tone he used was despairing and Virgil frowned.

"Sam, this isn't your fault. That car was a-okay when he lined up and you know it. Jack who?" Virgil frowned again. He wasn't sure whether he really was this dense or whether it was the effects of the sedative still in his system making him dopey. "Jack Jamison?"

"Yeah, Jack Jamison. He came round to the paddock earlier, tore a strip of me. He said it was my responsibility and that I should have made sure the car was working properly." Sam paused and Virgil could see that the incident had really gotten to the young mechanic.

"Sam, there was no fault on that car. We both know that and we both know that Alan's more than capable of racing that track." Virgil paused. "We'll just have to see what the investigation turns up, but Jack Jamison had no right to do that to you." Virgil looked at his friend sympathetically.

"I can understand him though Virg, he's upset." Sam said sadly.

"We're all upset." Virgil placed a hand on his friend's knee, unable to reach his shoulder. "Sam, you did your job out there and don't let anyone tell you any different. I know you feel responsible, I do too but it wasn't your fault."

Sam didn't reply, instead turning up to the darkening sky and looking up to the stars that were beginning to show themselves.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam asked, not turning to look at his friend. "I can't even begin to describe what was going through my head when I realised it was you two. They cut the radios within minutes and I didn't have a clue what was going on. You gave me a bad moment there for sure."

Virgil forced a smirk; in all honesty, he was worried about his friend. "I'm fine." He assured him. "Bruised and tired, but I'm fine."

Sam nodded turning to look at Virgil. "Good." He said sincerely. "Say, isn't that Scott's jacket?"

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, I couldn't get my shirt on over my head." He laughed, as Scott joined them.

"He couldn't get his shoes on either." Scott laughed too. "Haven't done that since he was a kid." He paused to laugh. "Come on; let's get back to the hotel. I want to check on Alan."

Sam stood up. "I dropped your father off there on my way over here." He fell in step alongside Scott as they began to walk towards the car, chatting as they went. "But he's been in and out all afternoon."

"Err, guys!" Virgil called, struggling to get up off the bench. "A little help?"

"Sorry Virg." Scott replied as he wrapped an arm around his brother and helped pull him to his feet. Slowly they headed down to where Sam had left the car, Scott keeping pace with his brother's slow, laboured steps.

XxxxX

Their arrival at the hotel was chaotic; the waiting paparazzi had gathered around the back of the building after a deliberate 'leak' from the hotel's security team. However, a few stray photographers had congregated and instead of stopping to hand the car over to the hotel staff. Sam drove directly into the underground car park himself. The management weren't happy about it, but had soon halted any real complaint when the two eldest Tracy brothers had emerged from the car.

"Y'know." Sam was saying as they made their way up into the hotel reception. "I could get used to the influence just being a Tracy has."

"Believe me." Virgil said dryly. "You'd get bored with it. Quickly."

"Oh, I don't know Virg." Sam smiled as they approached a staircase, deep in thought. "It must have some advantages. Otherwise, how do you explain Scott's luck with he ladies? I mean, it's not like they actually find him attractive or anything."

Virgil snorted a laugh as Scott just shook his head. "You can mock all you like. You're just jealous of my natural charm, outstanding wit and amazingly large…"

"Ego?" Virgil supplied for him before he'd finished the sentence.

"Bank account?" Sam jumped in, with a smirk.

"I was going to say larger than life character." Scott smirked good-naturedly. "But I guess ego fits too." All three laughed heartily as they made their way up the stairs.

Virgil struggled slowly and Scott was becoming more and more concerned as he seemed to need more and more assistance with every step. To the point where it felt to Scott as though he was carrying his brother as they neared the top.

Breathless and screwing his face up Virgil walked across the hotel reception unaided, much to Scott's relief. As they turned the corner to approach the lift, two friendly faces met them.

"Virg!" Gordon exclaimed with a smile as he jumped up from the ornamental table he perched on. "Here sit down, how are you feeling?"

Virgil frowned, coming to a halt in front of his brothers, Sam and Scott behind him. Between the two lifts stood a small but sturdy table, home to two vases full of flowers. Gordon was gesturing to Virgil to take the 'seat' he'd just vacated alongside John, who swung his legs aimlessly.

"I'm fine." Virgil smiled. "But if I sit down I won't be able to stand back up again." Gordon and John both looked to Scott sceptically, who shook a hand in reply indicating for them to leave it. "Where's Al?" Virgil asked, oblivious to the exchanged glances.

Gordon nodded his head to a door a few feet away, the word 'Bar' imprinted in fancily written frosted glass was clearly visible through the otherwise unblemished glass door. Through the transparent door the back of Alan's head could be seen as he spoke mutedly with their father. Virgil noted that thankfully, the rest of the bar was sparsely populated.

"Al couldn't sleep, he'd gotten this idea that Dad thinks it was his fault." Gordon informed them. "I mentioned it to Dad, said that Al's feeling pretty low and ..."

"Dad suggested he join him for a nightcap and a 'talk'." John finished, adding his own sarcastic spin to the word 'talk'. He glanced at his watch. "That was two and a half hours ago."

Sam and Scott shuffled around Virgil to see though the door. "How much has he had?" Scott asked.

Gordon shrugged, "I don't know."

John shook his head slowly, allowing his face to drop and forcing unruly blonde locks to fall forward too. "Dad thinks Scotch can fix anything." He mumbled.

The comment was largely ignored, but not unheard. "I'll go and talk to him." Scott said gruffly as he turned for the glass door.

"No Scott." Virgil's call stopped him. "I'll go."

"Virg, go to bed. I'll make sure he's okay." They stood level now and Scott could see the resolve through the clouded eyes. He knew before he'd finished the sentence the words were useless.

"I said I'd go Scott." There was that tone again, the one Scott had heard in the hospital. With a soft but resigned sigh, he nodded slowly and took a step back allowing Virgil clear passage to the bar.

"What's the matter with him?" Gordon asked as they watched him go.

Sam just shrugged his ignorance and John and Gordon turned to their older brother for an answer. "He's had a bad day. He's exhausted, worried and in a hell of a lot more pain then he's going to admit. Cut him some slack, will you?" The frown that adorned Scott's face as the terse words were spat out caused John and Gordon to exchange a look of intrigue. It would seem that Virgil wasn't the only one feeling the strain.

As Virgil entered the bar, his father immediately noted his presence and stood to meet him. "Son!" He smiled warmly as he placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder. Virgil's resultant wince caused him to withdraw. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." Virgil shook his head, discounting his fathers concern. "Just a bit bruised, that's all."

Jeff gestured to the seat alongside Alan, for Virgil to sit down. "How's the head?"

Virgil smiled as his father took his seat again and he gracefully held a hand out to decline the offer. "The head's fine, I'm tired though."

Jeff nodded as he finished off the contents of one of the crystal tumblers resting on the table. Virgil glanced across to where his youngest brother sheepishly bowed his head, remaining silent as Jeff continued to talk.

"We're just having a nightcap and then we're off to bed." Jeff added, gesturing at the remaining glass and for Alan to drink it. The young blonde nervously acquiesced; taking the glass and sipping at it. Virgil watched him, waiting for him to look up and acknowledge his presence but he didn't.

"Dad, why don't you go sort the bill out." He gestured at Alan, hoping his father would take the hint. "We'll meet you by the elevator."

Jeff frowned for a few minutes, glancing over to a seemingly nervous Alan and taking the hint that his sons wanted some time alone. Knowing that they hadn't spoken since the accident, he was prepared to give them some privacy and stood. "Okay. I wanted a word with Bill Jackson anyway and he's over there. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Virgil waited for his father to move well away. "How you doing Kiddo?" He placed a hand on the young mans shoulder as Alan sat forward in the chair, cradling the remains of the scotch and swirling it round.

Virgil didn't really want to have to sit down for fear of the pain he knew would come when he had to get back up. When Alan made no reply though, he felt he had no choice. He lowered himself slowly with the aid of the table until he was sat alongside his brother on the bench seat.

"You're not mad with me are you?" Virgil asked, turning to him. Alan's head swung up instantly to deny the claim with a shake of the head. Revealing to Virgil his overly large pupils and his heavy eyelids. Virgil sighed sympathetically, what John had said was true. Their father thought that a scotch could cure anything but he failed to consider that not all of them had the resistance he did. "How much have you had?"

Alan screwed his face as if he was going to cry but with a shrug of the shoulders, and to Virgil's relief, he seemed to compose himself. Virgil nodded in defeat at the mute replies. "I think we should get you to bed, don't you?"

When Alan's only reply was a nod of the head Virgil smirked, laughing to himself. "Do you do anything else apart from nod?"

Alan's lips trembled as he turned in his seat to face his brother, their eyes meeting. "I am so sorry Virgil."

Virgil shook his head, breaking the shared gaze and looking to the floor. "Al," He placed a hand on his brother's knee until Alan looked at him. "You've got nothing to be sorry for."

Virgil could see the confusion cloud the normally bright blue eyes. The alcohol slowed his reaction but a frown soon materialised. "But I hurt you…" He screwed his face up again, though this time in horror.

"You didn't hurt me." Virgil told him, but he'd dropped his gaze and continued to look to the floor, refusing to look up. "Look at me." Virgil reached a hand out to his face and guided him until they were level; eye-to-eye. "This was an accident. You did nothing wrong. I mean it Al, you have to believe me."

Alan nodded as the alcohol-induced clouds suddenly became full of moisture. He'd avoided it but now Virgil had forced him to look, his gaze wouldn't move from his brother's face. He snivelled as he felt Virgil's strong arm creep round his shoulders securely. Suddenly he launched himself into his brother's embrace. He clung to Virgil as he had clung to Gordon earlier; arms tightly held around his neck, squeezing his brother and forcing his body as close as it would go.

Virgil winced with the force he used, barely concealing the grimace as the pressure on his ribs caused insurmountable pain to erupt throughout his chest. He held Alan for a few minutes, allowing his brother to feel the security he needed to before gently disentangling himself. "Come on." Virgil said softly, "Let's get you to bed." He suggested, hoping that at least then he would be able to take some painkillers.

"Virgil…" Alan stopped himself, sighing. His older brother looked up to him expectantly. "Why didn't you tell me the harness jammed? You knew didn't you?"

Virgil sighed. "Yeah I knew. I tried to release it before I hit yours and it wouldn't budge."

"So why didn't you say anything?" Alan frowned. Virgil wasn't sure whether it was the guilt or the sadness in his eyes that was most disturbing.

"If I had. Would you have jumped?" When Alan shook his head, he continued. "You had to get out. I knew that and you knew that. Even once you'd hit the circuit breaker the engine wasn't dying fast enough to prevent an explosion. I couldn't risk you being in the car if that was going to happen."

Alan sniffled slightly. "I'll never forgive myself for today." He mumbled.

"Hey," Virgil forced their eyes to meet again. "There's nothing to forgive. Accidents happen Al, it was an accident."

"That's what Gordy said." Alan mused softly.

"And that's what I say and I'll bet that's what Dad's just said. Because it's the truth." Virgil could see the words were having an effect. He wondered how much of Alan's dazed state was shock and how much was the scotch he'd consumed.

"You still got hurt." Alan disagreed.

"Come on Al!" Virgil scoffed. "There's nothing wrong with me. I've got more bruises from one of Gordon's stupid jokes." He smirked at his younger brother but Alan didn't return it.

"That's not true." Alan replied dismally. "I saw the way you walked in here."

"It's nothing." Virgil assured his brother. "Now, come on. Let's get to bed." He glanced across to the bar, where their father was now deep in conversation with his acquaintance.

Virgil watched as Alan stood stiffly before he attempted to follow suit. If there was one person in the world he wanted to conceal the severity of his injuries from it was the brother stood before him now. Therefore, for his sake and his sake alone, Virgil gathered all his control and forced himself up. Trying desperately to ignore the pain and blinking back the tears that stung his eyes.

As they headed for the exit, Virgil frowned at the raised voices he could hear. Peering through the glass of the door, he took in the scene in the hotel reception. Sam, John and Gordon all stood behind Scott. Who held his hands out whilst talking to another man as if in peace talks. Virgil studied the 'other man' recognising him as none other than Jack Jamison.

Mark's older brother was about the same age as Scott and one hundred percent muscle. Virgil didn't recognise the other man stood to Jack's left. Just from the pair's actions, he could tell they weren't here to inquire into Alan's health. As voices rose further, Virgil watched with increasing alarm as Jack took a few intimidating steps towards the oldest Tracy brother. Scott had never reacted well to threats, especially when it came to family and Virgil suddenly envisaged a massive brawl breaking out if he didn't do something. The fact that Jack had already verbally attacked Sam fresh in his mind, Virgil turned to Alan.

"Al, I don't know what's going on out there. I want you to wait here for Dad, okay?" Virgil told him firmly, the younger man nodded though he blinked heavily. Virgil began to realise just what an effect the alcohol was having as he leant up against the door somewhat unsteadily.

Virgil smiled at him reassuringly, casting a glance at where his father stood at the bar. He hoped he wouldn't be long and ventured out into the reception. As soon as the doors opened, he could hear the shouting.

"Just tell us where he is!"

"Look," Scott was saying. Virgil was impressed by just how calm he sounded. "He's not here, why don't you just go home and we'll talk about this properly tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" The other man shouted, Virgil noted the tattoo on his left bicep as it flexed menacingly. "Mark doesn't have tomorrow, thanks to your brother."

"That's not true." Gordon said, from Scott's right. "Alan wasn't responsible for what happened out there today."

"No." Jack sneered. "It was a fault with the car, right? There's me thinking that's what a mechanic's for." He glared at Sam and Virgil practically felt the wave of guilt hit his friend.

"It wasn't Sam's fault either." John said speedily. "Look, Scott's right. It's late, you've had a lot to drink, just go home."

"I'm not drunk!" Jack snarled, leering forward at Scott unsteadily.

"Much." John muttered beneath his breath.

"What was that?" The tattooed man stepped forward into John's face provocatively. John looked down before glancing at Scott, almost asking permission to retaliate but Scott shook his head.

"He's not worth it John." He said aloud, deliberately looking at Jack.

"You hear that?" Jack slurred as he staggered in front of Scott. "We're not worth it." He grinned for a few minutes before laughing hysterically but Scott was far from amused.

Virgil watched the scene unfold approaching Gordon and getting his attention. He whispered. "Gordy, will you find Dad for me? He's in the bar." To begin with, Gordon frowned at him as if the suggestion was completely ludicrous. Then, as if a light bulb had been switched on he suddenly understood what Virgil was saying.

"Okay. The bar you say?" With a swift nod from Virgil, he was gone, heading to the bar in search of Alan. Virgil turned his attention back to the conversation in front of him, which was quickly escalating. Where was security when you needed them?

"You think you're so much better then the rest of us, don't you?" Jack was shouting in Scott's face. "Well, I got news for you; you're not going to get away with this. None of you." He yelled gesturing his arms madly. "That brat of a brother of yours killed my brother today and you… all of you." Again, the arms lashed out into thin air. "Trying to protect him, you're all just as bad. But you're not going to get away with it." He paused, attempting to gain some stability, as the movement seemed to knock him off balance. "You're going to pay for this. If it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure of it." His eyes filled with emotion that the alcohol had replaced with rage and Virgil sighed sympathetically.

"Jack," John stepped forward, alongside Scott. "No one is more sorry about what happened here today then us. We're sorry Mark's dead and we're sorry it happened how it did, but no amount of screaming or shouting or idle threats is going to bring him back now."

Virgil spoke up. "He's right." He smiled inwardly. Typical John, ever the peacemaker. "Do you think Mark would want this?"

"I think Mark would want justice, Virgil." Jack replied; his teeth clamped together. "But with your money he's not likely to get it, is he?"

Virgil frowned at the comment, but the reply came from Scott. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You'll just throw a whole load of money at the situation and it'll go away. We're not going to let that happen. This is NOT going to get swept under the carpet." Jack yelled irately. "You all think you're so high and mighty, the squeaky clean Tracy family. Oh no, they never do anything wrong." He shouted sarcastically, grinning sardonically. "Well maybe it was time they were brought down a peg or two."

Jack went to turn away from Scott, and Virgil let a sigh of relief escape his lips in the hope that he would leave and it would all be forgotten. However, that hope soon disintegrated as the drunken man swivelled on his feet, throwing all his body weight into swinging his right fist at Scott's face. The drunken movement was too slow for Scott. He instinctively reached out and grabbed the wrist in one smooth flash of movement. Virgil watched in horror as he noticed Scott tense, his own free hand beginning to ball up into a fist.

"Scott!" He called. "You said it yourself…" He didn't need to say any more. With a snarl of disgust Scott let go of the drunken man's wrist with a less than gentle push.

"Erm, maybe we should just get out of here?" Sam suggested meekly.

Turning around to face the mechanic, John nodded. "I think that's a good idea, drunken Jack plus angry Scott equals…" John paused in the sarcastic comment mid flow. "Like I said good idea."

All four men turned their backs to the aggressors, intent on heading up to their rooms.

However, instead they all came face to face with Alan, stood in the doorway. Gordon stood nervously at his side, an arm draped across the younger man's shoulders as Alan took a step forward.

"Well look here. It's the murderer himself." Jack said coldly, his eyes never leaving Alan's.

"Jack, I'm so sorry. But I didn't kill him, it was an accident." Alan said softly, Gordon couldn't help but feel pleased at the words. They'd spent the whole evening trying to convince Alan exactly that and to hear him say those words was reassuring.

Gordon watched as the events that followed those four words unfolded in slow motion. "Liar!" Jack shouted as he lunged passed Scott in Alan's direction. "You're a murderer!" He was yelling at the top of his voice as Scott attempted to stop him. Meanwhile Sam and John were attempting to hold off the tattooed man, steadily succeeding.

As Scott fell to the ground with Jack, the drunken man lashed out bringing Virgil down alongside them. "Virgil!" Gordon and Alan rushed to his side, pulling him away from the fracas.

Scott made short work of restraining Jack. "You ever go within so much as a metre of my family again. I swear, you'll regret it." Scott spat as Jack squirmed beneath him.

"What the devil is going on here?" A crisp, English voice boomed across the reception area, echoing off the decorated walls and causing everything to cease movement. As both captives ceased their struggle, John and Sam pulled the tattooed man to his feet and thrust him into the arms of the waiting security personnel. Identifiable from the stark white and greyish blue uniform. Three or four, ominous and heavily built men stood around the hotel manager who's arms were firmly folded across his puffed out chest, a look of hostile monotony gracing his features.

"You missed all the action." Sam smiled forcefully as he turned to help Scott up.

"Yeah, nice timing." John added, with a false smile as the security staff wrestled the trouble causers away.

"You're going to pay for this, all of you. You're going to suffer." Jack was muttering threats even as he was led away.

Scott sighed, running a hand over his head and turning to the burgundy form of the hotel manager. He noted as he did that the man's face almost matched his uniform in shade. Scott approached, already formulating the words of explanation and opening his mouth to voice them.

"Mr Tracy," The manager beat him to it. "I am eagerly awaiting some kind of explanation into this… this brawl."

Scott glanced down to the name badge protruding from the crisp blazer. "Mr Johnson, I apologise but …"

"Scott!" The call startled him and he turned to the voice of his second youngest brother. Taking in the scene as he did. Gordon was knelt down alongside Virgil, propped up against the wall in between the ornamental table and the lift doors. The older brother wasn't looking too good.

As Scott turned his attention to his brother, he became vaguely aware that John and Sam had joined him as he advanced. "Virgil?"

He chose to ignore Mr Johnson's, annoyingly harsh tones somewhere behind him. "I say, what's going on? What's the matter over there?" After several more ignored attempts, he gave up and retreated from the scene. Intent on taking it up with Mr Tracy himself, at a later date.

Scott knelt down alongside Alan on the opposite side to Gordon. "Are you okay? Is he okay?" The first question was directed at Virgil. Before he'd drawn breath, the older Tracy turned to Gordon.

"I'm fine Scott." Virgil said, he attempted to make it sound as smooth as possible but he couldn't conceal his ragged breathing.

"What happened?" Sam asked, as he peered over John's shoulder.

The reply came from Gordon again. "Jack punched him in the ribs as he fell."

Unlike the others, who had turned their attention to Gordon. Scott frowned at the words, not taking his eyes from Virgil's. He instantly disliked Virgil's harsh breathing but as it began to settle, he turned back, remembering Mr Johnson.

"Damn it!" He cursed. Evidently, the manager had given up trying to communicate with any of them in the chaos and had left the scene. "John," Scott turned around. "Go and get Dad, tell him it's urgent. We've got to settle this with the hotel and get you to bed." He turned back to Virgil cryptically.

John looked like he was going to protest, but nodded. "He's in the bar. He said he would be out in a minute." Gordon supplied helpfully. The blonde man walked off hurriedly, in search of their father.

"Didn't you tell him what was going on?" Scott asked, annoyed at Gordon's lack of thought.

"Well, he's talking to Bill Jackson of Jackson Aerospace. What was I supposed to say Scott? 'Hey Dad, me and the boys are just engaging in a mass brawl.'" Gordon huffed sarcastically. "I'm sure he would have loved that, in front of one of his business buddies." He paused angrily. "I told him it was urgent and he said he wouldn't be long."

"Okay, okay. Arguing about it isn't going to get us anywhere." Scott tried to calm himself; so many thoughts ran through his head he closed his eyes for a moment. "Gordy, give me a hand. Let's get him up." He unintentionally, pushed Alan out of the way, as he grabbed one of Virgil's arms and the two hoisted him to his feet. Virgil grimaced at the pain but stopped himself commenting.

"Scott," Gordon was suddenly speaking softly. "He was unconscious, only for a few seconds."

Virgil shook his head immediately as the words were uttered above his head. "I wasn't unconscious I just had my eyes closed. He barely touched me." He protested.

Scott wished he could have been looking at his brother directly when those words left his lips. At least then, he would have been able to ascertain whether they were the truth or not.

"Maybe we should get a doctor to look you over." Scott muttered as Virgil let the wall take his weight.

"I'm fine Scott." Virgil's voice betrayed the exhaustion. "Look, he just winded me that was all. I don't need to see a doctor; I just need to go to bed."

Scott studied his brother for a few minutes, unsure for once of what to do. He could force Virgil to see a doctor but the chestnut haired man would take exception and Scot felt he was volatile enough as it was. The continued use of 'that' tone of voice told him that Virgil was fast approaching breaking point. The way his eyes remained so cloudy reminded Scott that if he didn't at least force his younger brother to move, he'd soon fall asleep. However, if he couldn't persuade Virgil to see a doctor and something happened he wouldn't forgive himself.

"Okay," He came to a decision; pressing the button that would bring one of the glass carriages down to them, he sighed. "You don't want a doctor that's fine, but you tell me the truth." He looked directly into the deep brown eyes that had never developed an ability to hide from him in the same way that he could never lie to Virgil. "Did it knock you out?"

Virgil sighed. "No, the pain took me to the edge but it didn't knock me out." His expression became expectant of a reply from the older brother.

Scott nodded, seemingly content with the reply. "Right." Scott could hear the understatement in that comment. From when they were children, Virgil had always had a high pain threshold. Scott assumed the way he was so powerfully built helped. He knew the pain must have been great for Virgil to make such an admission. "I'll find Dad and John and explain everything, the rest of you go to bed."

"Scott…" Sam nudged him and as a response, Scott turned to what held the mechanics vision.

As the arrival of the carriage was signified by a glorified beep, Scott placed a plastic key card into Sam's hand. Gordon was already moving towards where the youngest of the brothers stood against the wall silently staring onto space, oblivious of all that had passed before.

Scott stopped the copper haired man with a hand on the chest. "No." He frowned. "I'll make sure he's okay, give me your key."

Gordon matched Scott's frown. "No, let me Scott. He's shaken up and he's had a lot to drink. He'll be fine; he just needs to get to bed."

"Yeah, don't we all." Scott ground out sarcastically. "So quit messing around and give me the damned key!" He held out his hand expectantly and with a deep scowl, Gordon conformed. "Now, you two make sure he gets to bed." Scott gestured to Virgil as they stepped into the patiently waiting carriage.

Virgil opened his mouth to protest at the bodyguard he'd been assigned, but Scott barked a reply before the words had left his lips. "You'll do as you're told." He snapped.

As the carriage doors closed at the hands of the operator and they slid out of sight smoothly Scott heaved a heavy sigh. Surely, this day couldn't get much worse.

"Hey Kid." He walked across to his youngest brother, forcing a smile. "It's getting kind of late."

"Scott." Scott's words seemed to snap him out of his stupor and he glanced around, surprised at the sudden emptiness of the area. "Where… where did they all go?"

Scott placed a hand around his shoulders, guiding him to the other lift and pressing the button that would hail a carriage. "They went to bed, which is exactly where I think you should be going. Come on."

In the carriage running almost parallel with them Gordon was still smarting at the way Scott had spoken to him. "What's the matter with him anyway?" He was frowning.

"He's upset." Sam shrugged. "It's been a hard day."

"We're all upset and we've all had a bad day!" Gordon raged. Silently he deflated. "I'm sorry Sam; I didn't mean that how it sounded. It's just it winds me up. If anyone has any right to be snapping and yelling at people its Virgil or Alan, they're the ones that have been through hell."

"He's always taken the weight of the world on his shoulders Gords, that's just the way he is." Sam tried to appease the younger brother, not ignorant of the fact that his friend had made no effort to defend Scott. He glanced at Virgil, wondering if he was smarting too at the comments Scott had aimed at him.

"Yeah well he shouldn't. He's no right, just because he's upset. If one of us had spoken to him like that he'd have kicked our butts." Gordon growled, pausing for a few minutes. "Scott wasn't even in the damned car!" He added, clearly frustrated.

"And that's the problem." Virgil muttered. Gordon and Sam turned to face him surprised at the sudden comment after such lengthy silence on the matter. "He'd do anything to change that."

Gordon eyed him regretfully as they continued the rest of their journey in miserable silence.


	5. Flying Pigs & Sleepless Nights

Authors Note: Thanks to everyone who has left reviews, I truly appreciate the extra time readers take to leave a comment. Each one is highly valued and extremely helpful in knowing what I'm doing right and wrong. Please continue to do so.

Chapter Five –Flying Pigs & Sleepless Nights

"Lie down." Scott said firmly as he pulled the quilted covers back to enable his youngest brother to do exactly that.

"I'm okay Scott, I'm not really tired." The protest came as anticipated, but the fear held in the young man's eyes at the prospect of sleep was a little more surprising.

"Come on Al." Scott smiled, gesturing to the bed. "You must be exhausted. I know I am." He watched Alan carefully, reading every small gesture.

Alan swallowed and sat down on the edge of the bed. He seemed to hesitate before slipping between the sheets almost nervously. "That's it." Scott encouraged as he pulled the covers up around his brother and perched on the bed himself. Alan settled into the pillows though he didn't close his eyes. "You need to get some sleep." Scott said softly. "You'll feel better in the morning." He reached across to dim the lights but Alan grabbed his wrist.

"I can't." Wide, fearful eyes admitted to the older man. Scott looked down inquisitively at the blonde, using his other free hand to dim the lights and then remove Alan's grip on his wrist. "I'm sorry." Alan added shamefully, unwilling to let his eyes meet his brothers. He let his hand drop, ashamed at the sudden outburst and angry that he'd let that weak tone creep into his voice.

"It's alright." Scott reassured him. "What do you mean you can't?" He smiled worriedly at his brother. Watching as Alan seemed to ponder the question. Not so much the question but how he should respond.

"It's okay. I'm fine." He mumbled eventually. Not daring to look at Scott, he glanced around the room. "It doesn't matter." He didn't need to see Scott's face to know that his older brother wasn't at all fooled by this routine. "I don't know why I said that."

"I think you do." Scott replied. He waited for Alan's gaze to meet his but instead he was faced with unruly blonde locks and was forced to continue. "What did you mean?" Scott paused but Alan remained silent. "What can't you do?"

Alan shrugged. He made the mistake of briefly catching Scott's gaze. Consequently, he suddenly understood that Scott was not willing to leave this. Reluctantly, Alan responded.

"Every time I close my eyes, I see it Scott." He caved, not holding back in telling his older brother everything. Scott bowed his head regretfully. Deep down Alan knew it was the alcohol that had caused him to let his guard down. He didn't really care though; he just knew he needed to get it off his chest. There was little point in even attempting to lie to Scott. Even though Alan wasn't particularly keen on admitting his fears to his already protective, older brother. With Scott, honesty was not just the best policy; it was the only policy.

"We're spinning but we're slowing down and all I can hear is Virg yelling at me to get out. To jump." He continued.

The young man's voice shook and Scott's frown became sympathetic. "And you were scared?" Scott ventured, reading his youngest brother with years of experience.

"Scared?" Alan scoffed and for a minute he was about to deny the question. He knew Scott wouldn't appreciate falsified bravery and would see straight through it, and decided against it. "I was petrified." He muttered depressingly after a short pause.

"There's nothing wrong with that Al, its natural. I'll bet if you ask Virg, he'll tell you he was scared too." Scott tried to calm his brother's anxiousness, seeing in his expression that he felt ashamed to be afraid. "I would have been scared as well." Scott admitted.

Surprised blue eyes met his. "No." Alan shook his head. "No, you wouldn't have been scared and you wouldn't have left Virgil in there alone either." Somehow admitting all this to Scott, made him feel ten times more guilty.

Scott frowned at the comment. "Everybody gets scared Al, even me." Alan glanced up to his brother as if it was an impossibility but Scott moved on. "You don't think you should have left Virgil?"

Alan shrugged painfully. "He was my passenger, I was responsible for getting him out and I left him."

Scott thought the comment through silently. "Al," He said gently. "Virgil told you to jump, why do you think that was?"

Alan shrugged again. "I don't know, because he was worried the engine was going to blow I guess." Alan sighed and blinked tiredly. Scott had long since realised it was Alan's fear of sleeping rather then his lack of exhaustion that was keeping him awake. And as he watched his brother's eyelids drop slightly he could see the effects of the alcohol were becoming increasingly difficult for Alan to resist.

"That's the point." He grumbled. "Once he gets in that car he's my responsibility Scott. This is just another example of me not being responsible. I should have made sure he was clear before I even thought about getting clear myself. Gordon's right." Alan sighed mournfully. "I am selfish."

Scott frowned. "When did Gordon say you were selfish?" He found himself saying before he'd really processed everything his brother had said.

"This afternoon. Whilst you were at the hospital, but it's not just Gordon is it. Everyone thinks that about me." Alan said exasperatedly.

Scott sighed. "Al, the fact that you think you made the wrong decision just proves that you're not selfish. You've really thought this through and you're right. Virgil was your responsibility in that car but you didn't make the wrong decision." Scott paused, watching Alan digest the words. "And the fact that this has even occurred to you means you're responsible enough to evaluate what happened, point out and freely admit what you did wrong." A trait, Virgil was constantly telling him he lacked.

"But, you didn't do anything wrong this time." Scott was saying. "Let me ask you something. Where did Mark hit your car?" When Alan frowned clearly not understanding the question, Scott continued. "Where on the car? Front or back? Fender or head on?" He elaborated.

"Erm, front fender, my side." Alan said, unsure why this was relevant.

"And if you hadn't jumped when Virgil told you to, after the car slowed down. Isn't that right where you would have been sat?" Scott watched the words register in the young blondes eyes. "You'd have been killed for sure." Alan nodded, slowly digesting the conclusion. "It was the right decision." Scott told him firmly. "Virgil will tell you that too. You came out this accident, the both of you, with nothing worse than bruises. If things had been different." Scott paused. "I don't even want to think about what else could have happened. I know you feel a little shaken up now, I'm pretty sure Virg does too but you're going to be alright."

Alan snorted in disbelief. "You think?"

"I know." Scott said confidently. "I'm not saying it'll be easy. You've got the Tracy survival skill; we seem to have this ability to get through anything life throws our way."

"Even murder?" Alan sighed sadly.

"Nobody murdered anybody." Scott frowned in reply.

"That's not what Jack thinks." Alan responded miserably.

"Jack was drunk, he's upset." Scott paused. "Al, you said yourself, it was an accident." He frowned at his brother's obvious fatigue and apparently low mood. "Are you telling me you don't believe that anymore?"

"Everyone keeps saying it's an accident, but how do they know. How does anyone know? How do I know? How do you know?" Alan sighed again.

"Because I know you. I know you're good out there and I know you wouldn't have made that kind of mistake." Scott paused, trying to evaluate whether Alan was listening to him. "I know Virgil and I know Sam too. Do you think Sam would have let you or Virgil out in a car that wasn't safe?" Scott shook his head. "No way. This was an accident, Al and that's all there is to it."

"I wish it was that simple." Alan felt his eyes slipping closed.

"Look, you're exhausted and you're mixed up. You'll feel better in the morning. A good night's sleep and you'll soon put all this into perspective. Now close your eyes." Alan looked nervously at his brother. "Go on, close them." Eventually Alan succumbed to the battle his brother and body fought against him and allowed his eyes to close.

After a few seconds, the mattress lifted as Scott moved and Alan was on the brink of snapping his eyes open again when he felt Scott alongside him.

"I'm right here." Scott soothed the tense reaction to the movement and reached a hand out to his youngest brother from where he'd perched on the opposite bed. He smiled as the young man nestled into his comforting touch and continued to run his fingers through Alan's hair habitually. Alan allowed his eyes to close again and Scott smiled. Watching his every move until his even breathing suggested he was asleep. The rhythmic sound, punctuated by small moans of comfort was enough to tempt Scott's own eyelids into drooping and before long he too slipped into a light doze.

XxxxX

"Scott! Scott!" The whispered words and intermittent shaking roused him with a jolt and his eyes popped open involuntarily.

"Okay! Okay! I'm awake." He whispered, glancing across to where thankfully, Alan still slept. He turned his vision to the person who'd disturbed his sleep. "John." He rubbed his eyes sleepily as he glanced back at Alan's sleeping form and sat up on the edge of the bed he'd fallen asleep on. "What time is it?" He asked blearily.

John sighed glancing at his watch. "Quarter passed midnight. Dad's gone up to your room, he's looking for you." Scott grimaced at the prospect. "How is he?" John gestured down to where Alan slept and Scott followed his vision. Watching John as he reached up to smooth the duvet over his sleeping brother, easily slipping into a more protective role. It reassured Scott that he could leave Alan tonight and concentrate his efforts on Virgil.

"Honestly, I'm not really sure." Scott paused. "Keep an eye on him tonight, will you? I'm worried about him."

"Of course I will, you're not the only one." John paused. "You know, when Dad told me I'd have to share a room with the terrible two I wanted the ground to swallow me up. Right there and then, the idea repulsed me." John paused, sparing a glance at the sleeping man in front of them. "But y'know tonight, despite the fact that it's his fault we're forced to share." He gestured to Alan, and Scott frowned at him; they'd already had this argument on countless occasions. "There isn't anywhere else I'd rather be." John admitted.

Scott agreed with a nod of the head. "Yeah, tell me about it." Scott reached over to a sleeping Alan. "He looks just like he did when he was a kid." Discontentedly he ran his fingers over his brother's golden locks and the young man stirred. Both John and Scott waited for him to settle before the conversation continued.

"When you think about what could have happened out there Scott." John shook his head. "It puts everything into perspective, both of them were so lucky today. We could have easily lost a brother when you think about all the variables."

"Johnny," Scott sighed, shaking his head. "That is definitely something I don't want to think about. They're both okay, as far as I'm concerned that's all that matters."

There was a short silence; the sound of Alan's steady breathing the only thing to penetrate the silence.

"Are you okay?" John asked suddenly, looking intensely at his eldest brother.

Scott seemed surprised by the question. "Me? Yeah I'm fine. Why?"

John shrugged. The first member of his family to do so in the last few hours without causing himself pain Scott thought ruefully. "I don't know. It's just," He paused as if not knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say. "It's Virgil. Y'know?" He said eventually. "And you and him are practically like an old married couple so …" John was struggling to find the right words; this wasn't the kind of conversation many people had successfully with Scott. It was one hundred percent Virgil territory. "So, I was just checking you're okay."

A brief silence ensued before Scott started to laugh. Attempting not to wake Alan he kept it low, shaking his head. "An old married couple?" He smirked. "Gee, I got to remember that one. Virgil's going to love that."

"I mean it Scott," John's smile faded.

So did Scott's.

"I'm fine John really. Virgil's fine so … They're both fine." He shook his head at a loss for the words. "Really." Scott assured him. Standing up, he walked across to the adjacent bed where John perched and placed a hand on his shoulders. "I'm fine." He repeated.

"Well, that's a lie for a start. None of us are 'fine'." John paused, turning around and looking up to his brother. "I saw how you were before you knew he was okay." John said softly. "I've never seen you like that before. If I didn't know better, I'd have said you were panicking." John kept taking long breaks in his speech leaving Scott the opportunity to jump in, but the older man remained steadfastly silent. "Gordon told me about them bringing the body out. He'd gotten it into his head it was Virgil." John saw a flicker of something change in his brother's expression and was about to press on when Scott removed his hand, the barriers slamming into place.

"Speaking of which. I'd better go check in on him and face the music with Dad." Scott went to head to the door and John followed.

"He's seen the CCTV coverage, he knows what happened. He was just going on about public relations, bad press, bad press and bad press." John smiled sarcastically. "It's an important time for the business, apparently, and the last thing he needs is…"

"Bad press?" Scott asked with an ironic smile.

John nodded, but his smile became pensive. "Scott …"

"Johnny," Scott spoke over him. "I appreciate what you're trying to do; really I do. But leave playing big brother to those of us who know what we're doing yeah?"

John recoiled physically at the snarled comment. Hesitating as he reached forward to open the door for his older brother. Scott only grimaced as he reached a hand up to the blonde man's shoulder and it was shaken off with vigour.

"Forgive me for caring." John retorted gruffly.

"John." Scott sighed, leaning against the doorpost and closing his eyes. "I didn't mean that." He sighed again. "I'm just tired and well, it's been a bad day."

For a moment John stood sternly and Scott was beginning to think that the stubborn streak his brother had was about to rear its ugly head. However eventually John sighed too.

"I know." He paused. "And I know it's been a stressful day for you. We've all been worried about Virgil and Alan, then there was the car, Dad being stressed and the last thing you needed was Jack Jamison causing problems. It's been tough. For you more than the rest of us."

"I shouldn't take it out on you guys though." Scott shook his head in regret. "I snapped at Gordy earlier and Virg."

"You're drained, physically and emotionally." John told his brother. "They'll understand."

"Like you do?" Scott questioned him.

"Just like I do." John nodded sincerely. "Although just once it would be nice to hear the Great Scott Tracy; Man of Steel..." Scott grinned at the overemphasised words as he continued. "Admit that he was wrong, and apologise. However, I don't think the world's quite ready for flying pigs just yet." He smiled patting Scott on the shoulder. "I did mean what I said though Scott, you know where I am if you need me." John continued solemnly, Scott nodded his reply albeit uncomfortably. "Go and check on your wife." John grinned as he hung from the door, watching his brother depart. "Night!" He called after Scott as he went to shut the door.

"Hey John!" Scott called from his position a few steps down the corridor, the blonde man responded by halting and sticking his head out of the open space as he still swung on the door. Scott smiled, scoffing slightly as he chuckled. Though he faced his brother as he spoke, he still walked backwards. "I was wrong," He paused for effect. "And I'm sorry."

John's expression changed to one of shock; suddenly he held a hand out. "Watch out!" He pointed to behind Scott as the elder Tracy continued to walk backwards, his face pure disbelief.

Scott stopped immediately, turning round to see what it was his brother pointed at and frowning back at John when there was nothing there. The blonde man was heading back inside his room. "Damn flying pigs!" He exclaimed. "Night!" He added after a short pause and the door clicked shut.

Scott laughed to himself, the first proper need to laugh he'd felt since all this began. Chuckling and shaking his head at his usually quiet brother's humour he continued on his way. Still sniggering when he reached the door to the room he was sharing with Sam and Virgil, he forcefully restrained his laughing to a smirk as he entered. Knowing on the other side would be one mighty unhappy Jeff Tracy waiting for an explanation he didn't have, one annoyed Gordon Tracy who'd still be unhappy after Scott's harsh words earlier and hopefully one sleeping Virgil Tracy. Scott faked a smile for Sam's sake as he reached for the door handle.

XxxxX

He smiled flakily as he entered the room, immediately meeting his father's gaze. He turned to throw a weak smile in Sam and Gordon's direction before facing his father again.

"Dad." He acknowledged with dread, he knew a lecture was heading his way just from what John had said.

"What happened down there Son?" The question came without the aggression Scott had anticipated and for a few minutes, the wearily spoken words took a while to sink in.

Jeff watched his son's reaction slowly; anyone could see Scott was exhausted. Eventually the eldest son shrugged. "I don't know Dad." He sighed, running a hand through his hair; he glanced away from his father and deliberately looked across to where Virgil slept. "Jack had been drinking and erm…" Scott found it difficult to draw his gaze away from his brother and struggled to find the words he wanted to. "Things got out of hand." His eyes remained riveted to Virgil despite the fact that his head pivoted back towards his father.

He was only forced to break his stare at Virgil when he felt his father's hand on his shoulder. "You look exhausted Scott." He heard the softly spoken words, but everything seemed so far away. He forced himself to stay focused. "Look, get some sleep and we'll talk about it in the morning. Alright?" Scott felt himself nod but he knew that this conversation was far from over.

"Are you okay Son?" Jeff asked, a frown of concern now easily recognisable on his features.

For a moment, Scott hesitated before slamming his usual facade back into action. "Yeah, yeah." He said eagerly with a gentle nod of the head. "I'm fine, I … it's just been one hell of a day."

Jeff nodded; a smile hid his concern for now. He was aware that Scott had endured a tough day, they all had, but there was something else about his eldest son's manner that concerned him. He seemed so tired and distracted, almost as if he was in a world of his own at times. Jeff hoped it was the fatigue and nothing more serious that a good night's sleep wouldn't fix. He was aware that Scott would be concerned for Alan and Virgil. His two eldest had always been incredibly close and he knew the fact that his brothers had been involved would have shaken Scott up. However, the fact that one of those brothers was Virgil would shake him up even more.

"That it has." Jeff agreed. "Keep an eye on Virgil tonight, will you?" He knew he didn't have to say that, but somehow speaking the words made him feel better.

"Of course I will." Scott's reply came automatically.

"Okay, well I'm going to check in on Alan then I'm going to bed myself." Jeff announced, for some reason his gaze studied Scott without his command. Taking in the worn expression and the slightly pale tinge to his usually tanned complexion.

"Al's asleep." Scott told his father, already knowing the question that was to come next he answered it in advance. "He's okay. Shaken up more than anything I think. We need to keep an eye on him, both of them. They both need our support now."

Jeff nodded again. "Absolutely." He agreed. "They've both had a terrible experience today and whilst we should be thankful that they've come out of it relatively okay, we shouldn't overlook that fact." He paused thoughtfully, looking over to Virgil.

"Right." He said decidedly. "Night boys."

"Night Mr Tracy." "Night Dad." The choruses came. He turned to exit the room but halted at the sound of one call.

"Dad, wait." Gordon jumped up from the dresser he was sat on. "I'll walk down with you." Jeff nodded as Gordon joined him and they headed off together. "Night Sam." Gordon called over his shoulder, deliberately looking at Scott and saying nothing.

As the door clicked shut, Sam reached forward to lock it and Scott leant up against a wall, closing his eyes. He heaved a hefty sigh. "He's still mad with me, isn't he?" Scott asked, not opening his eyes but gesturing towards the door Gordon had walked out of.

Sam shrugged as the dark haired man opened his eyes and let his head drop forward. "Let him sleep it off."

Scott sighed again. "I'll talk to him tomorrow." Pushing himself away from the wall he walked around to the bed that was positioned alongside Virgil's and sat down. "Did he say anything?" He gazed down at his sleeping brother as Sam came to sit alongside him.

"Nope." The mechanic shook his head. "Out like a light as soon as his head touched the pillow." Sam knew what the question was aimed at. Whether Gordon was the only one annoyed with the way Scott spoke to him. "Is Alan really okay?"

Scott shrugged. "I don't know Sam. He's taken it pretty hard." Scott sighed. "What a day."

"Yep." Sam yawned. "I don't know about you but I'm exhausted. I'm going to get off to bed."

"Yeah, me too." Scott agreed softly, he got up to pull his clothes off. By the time he crawled between the crisp white sheets he could already hear the sound of Sam's soft snoring beside him. He had to smirk; it was a trait that Virgil often teased him about but Sam flatly denied. Sitting back up again Scott turned to his sleeping brother. Pulling the duvet up to cover Virgil's shoulders, he watched his brother sleeping contently as his own eyes slipped closed.

XxxxX

Scott woke with a start; he hadn't experienced any particular difficulty in sleeping last night but had woken from the image of that sheet-covered corpse being pushed in front of him. Only this time the crisp white sheet that had efficiently covered the body revealed a head full of chestnut hair and the distinctive red racing suit that Alan had bought his brother two Christmases ago. The feelings that Scott had felt then had come back, intensified by his subconscious. Barely contained fear, panic and a helplessness that threatened to control him had all dominated his restless sleep. Taking control of his mind, the emotions had somehow amplified themselves and enhanced his feeling of uselessness as he could only watch. Continually more convinced that the covered corpse had been his brother.

Still struggling to convince his mind that the nightmare was only that and forcing his emotions back under some kind of control, he sat up. The cool air hitting his damp chest made him shiver and he shook himself. Focusing on the hotel room that surrounded him. He found himself facing Sam's snoring and hastily turned around to assure himself that Virgil was indeed in the bed alongside him. However, when he noticed the bed was empty he pushed himself to his feet in a panic. Doing his best to ignore his shivering as the bitterly cool air made contact with his sweat drenched body. He looked around the room feverishly, but there was no sign of Virgil anywhere.

His ragged breathing began to calm however, when he noticed that one of the armchairs in the suite had been turned to face the window. Walking over to it, he was relived to see messy chestnut hair poking over the top.

"Pretty, huh?" Scott jumped at his brother's whispered words. Unaware Virgil knew he was there at all. He glanced out of the ceiling to floor windows as the sun began its accent over a stirring skyline.

Scott took the other seat slowly, still reeling from the strange dream he looked across at his brother. Checking over the garish bruising on Virgil's bare chest and subconsciously scanning him all over for any other injuries.

"Yeah." He replied eventually. "It is pretty." He paused. "You should be in bed though, that Doctor said lots of rest."

Virgil nodded, bowing his head for a moment. "I'm not really tired anymore." He said softly. "I guess I slept enough." He added.

"I thought those drugs would have made you sleep longer." Scott theorised. "It's…" He glanced at his watch. "Only quarter to five." Virgil's reply was only a shrug. Scott began to wonder if Gordon wasn't the only one who was upset with him. "Are you mad with me, for the way I spoke to you yesterday?" Scott ventured, his breathing finally calming.

Virgil seemed to hesitate; as if he wasn't really sure either what Scott was talking about, or his answer. "No." He said eventually. "You were stressed. Gordon's mad though."

Scott nodded. "I know. If it's any consolation, I didn't mean it how it sounded. And, I didn't tell you about the investigation because I didn't think you needed the extra stress. It was for your own good."

Virgil shrugged. "Forget it." He said dejectedly.

Scott watched him for a few minutes as he sat motionless, pretending to watch the sun. "Do you want to talk?" He asked softly after a few minutes.

Again, Virgil shrugged slightly after a long, thoughtful pause. "We are talking."

"You know what I meant." Scott told him, his concern at Virgil's desolate tone was fast turning to frustration but Virgil remained silent. "Virg, I really think you should go back to bed."

Several minutes of silence passed. Scott became increasingly uncomfortable as his brother ignored his comment and sat quite still, watching the sunrise. This wasn't like Virgil at all and Scott thought the awkward tension in the air unbearable. He couldn't ever remember a time when he'd felt so uneasy around Virgil; it unnerved him. Eventually Scott leant forward in his chair, no longer able to sit in the awful quiet. "Virgil, I …"

"I heard what you said." Virgil said sharply, not taking his eyes of the slowly moving sun.

Scott was taken aback by the snapped reply, suddenly unsure if Virgil had been truthful in telling him he wasn't annoyed with him. He became consciously careful of what he was saying; Virgil was not as okay as he was attempting to pretend to be. Scott could see that his usually conciliatory brother was troubled about something and unwilling to talk about it.

Virgil didn't usually bottle his emotions up, instead openly admitting the need the talk and unlike Scott often searching out his confidante to do just that. It was only when the situation became just too immense for Virgil to deal with, that the second eldest Tracy son packed away his feelings into a tiny corner of his soul and left them there. One such occasion was the death of their mother; a tragedy that though they had discussed, Scott still felt his brother kept too much inside about. Virgil had always defended himself by pointing out that Scott never willingly talked about his emotions and it was only due to his own timely interruptions that he did so at all. That only further added to Scott's argument though; that was how he was, it wasn't how Virgil was.

"I don't see you moving." Scott realised the words sounded sarcastic and tried to lighten the situation by laughing but it was no use. It had no effect on Virgil and Scott feared just how volatile his brother's dark mood was.

"I told you, I'm not tired. I'm not going back to bed." Virgil said tonelessly, his eyes riveted on the sun.

Scott sighed "Okay." He muttered as he sat back in the chair he occupied.

A few more minutes of silence ticked by painfully slowly. "You go back to bed." Virgil said suddenly, startling his brother who had become accustomed to the silence.

"I'm alright here." Scott shrugged.

"I don't need babysitting Scott. Stop fussing and go back to bed." The tone he used had a sharp edge to it that immediately concerned Scott. Virgil rarely took his aggression out on other people but this wasn't the first time he'd taken that tone.

"You're worrying me." Scott confided softly. "Sitting there isn't doing you a lot of good when you should be in bed resting." When Virgil made no attempt to reply Scott appealed to him. "Please Virg, I understand if you don't want to talk but, go back to bed. The more I see you sat here like this, the more nervous you're making me."

"Yeah well, nobody's forcing you to sit there and watch." Virgil's tone remained low but for a second he wrenched his gaze from the sun to glance briefly at his brother. "I told you, go back to bed."

"And you really think I'm going to do that?" Scott asked incredulously.

"Do whatever you like Scott." Virgil's response was dull, lacklustre and monotonous.

"I'd like you to go to bed, so as I can too."

"No one's stopping you." Virgil paused. "Go." He paused; waiting for Scott to stir but his eldest brother didn't move a muscle. "Go." He repeated. "Go on, go back to bed."

"Fine." Scott eventually got to his feet, hesitating to give Virgil the chance to stop him. "I'm just trying to help." When his brother remained mute, he continued on to his bed. He lay awake for some time, listening to Virgil's every infrequent move and the sound of the recurrent sighs that escaped his lips.

Eventually, about fifty minutes after getting back in bed, Scott watched in the soft sunlight that made its way into the darkened room as Virgil's silhouette finally moved. His eyes glued to his brothers form as slowly and a little unsteadily, Virgil made his way passed the end of Scott's bed and into the shower. The pitter-patter of running water could be heard after a few minutes and coupled with the sudden silence in the room, Scott found himself drifting off into sleep again.

XxxxX

"Gordy!" A shaking hand reached out to the sleeping form. "Gords!" The hushed words were becoming more and more urgent, the form they addressed merely grumbled in his sleep. Turning onto his side and moving away from the nagging voice, Gordon's eyes remained closed. Alan eyed the space on the mattress and sat down, unable to stop himself shaking.

"Gordon, please wake up." He reached out a hand and shook his brother once more; this time a mumbled response came before slowly, bleary amber eyes opened to take in the scene in front of him.

"Al?" He asked, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Are you okay?" He pushed himself up, his vision successfully adjusted to the dark and he studied his younger brother. "You're shaking!" He paused. "Come on; let's get you back to bed. Come on." He wrapped an arm round his brother's bare but bruised shoulders as he tumbled out of bed. "It's alright, come on." He assured Alan as he led him back to his own bed.

He pulled Alan close to him, reassuringly rubbing the top of his arm as he sat him on the bed. "Come here, lie down." Gordon told him as he guided him towards the mattress. "Are you cold?" Gordon frowned as he pulled the duvet up and round his quivering brother.

Alan shook his head. "No, but it is cold here compared to what we're used to." He smiled softly suddenly feeling regretful that he'd woken Gordon. He became angry at his own inadequacy and tried to appear normal, but it didn't lessen Gordon's frown.

"Are you alright?" The older brother asked, deep down he already knew the answer to that question but he wanted to give Alan a chance to explain.

"Yeah." Alan nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." He paused, sighing deeply. "No, that's a lie, I'm not fine. I… I just …" He struggled to find the words he wanted. "I just wanted to be near somebody."

Gordon thoroughly understood the words. "Nightmare?" He asked.

Alan managed a muffled reply, something along the lines of "Uh huh." He huddled into the pillow and pulled the duvet that covered him closer, as if it could protect him somehow.

Gordon nodded to himself. "Do you want to talk about it?" He hoped his younger brother would. He shivered himself in the cool air.

"It happened all over again." Alan said softly. Gordon was surprised at the candidness of the comment. He'd expected at least a little resistance and pondered whether it was indicative of just how upset Alan was.

"It's okay." Gordon reached out for his brother's hand and was surprised at the grip that was returned. "It's alright." He sighed. "It'll get easier Al, I promise you."

The younger man nodded. "I know. Deep down I know. It's just in the meantime I feel so…" He trailed off, not really wanting to admit exactly how he felt to his brother. Knowing that for Gordon to provide the comfort he needed and wanted, he would have to.

"So what?" Gordon asked, purposely glancing over to John. He saw his older brother remained asleep and attempted not to wake him, keeping their voices low.

"Lonely and scared." Alan sighed. "Guilty."

Gordon pulled him closer for a few minutes, hugging his brother. "You've got no reason to feel guilty Al, we've been through this. None of what happened yesterday was you're fault, deep down you know that."

Alan nodded again. "Yeah I do, but it's so scary Gords. I wake up and it's so dark and I'm alone."

"You're not alone now." Gordon told him, his free hand still rubbing at the younger mans arm in a soothing gesture. "I'm always here and I always will be, even when I'm back at work I'm only ever a phone call away. You can call me any time; you know that don't you? Day or night."

"I know that." Alan's voice held a sudden calm it had lacked earlier.

"Good." Gordon smiled. "Now you're not alone and you're safe. So, tell me what happened in the nightmare."

"I don't want to keep you up, I'm sorry I woke you. I just had to … be close to somebody." Alan frowned at how inadequate the words sounded in comparison to how he actually felt.

"It's okay. You did the right thing, I'm your brother it's what I'm here for. Now talk to me about what happened." Gordon told him as he allowed himself to fall back against the pillows alongside his brother, propping himself up on one arm. "I'm not going anywhere until you've told me everything." He told his brother firmly.

"It all happens again, just like it was yesterday." For a few seconds Alan halted and Gordon looked down to the abundance of golden curls that rested on the pillow alongside him. He was about to prompt his brother into elaborating when Alan continued. "Virgil wanted to listen to how the engine sounded under the strain; we're allowed to take mechanic out on the warm up so I took him with me. He told me I was leaving my gear changing too late; he was talking me through it." Alan smiled softly, taking a break. "We were approaching the bend and Virgil told me to change down. I put it in fourth, or at least I thought I did." He shook his head. "Maybe I didn't, maybe I did put it in second."

"You told me you were sure you'd put it in fourth." Gordon frowned.

"I know, I was sure. But …" Alan sighed, moving to give Gordon more room on the bed. "The more I think about it, the more I think … maybe I was wrong. Maybe I did put it in second." He shrugged, sighing again desolately.

"Al, you were so sure before." Gordon shook his head; saddened to hear his brother doubting himself. "Don't doubt yourself now. It is possible that there's a fault with the car y'know."

"Possible, yes. But highly unlikely." Alan sighed. "Ferrari US rebuilt the whole transmission system Gords. They're professionals, I'm just some rich kid who thought racing old classics was another step on the ladder to going professional. Who do you thinks more likely to make the mistake?"

"Al, you are a good driver and that's all this investigation is going to prove." Gordon told him confidently. "Don't doubt yourself. I have every faith in you, we all do. And we'll all support you whatever happens, you know that."

"Thanks Gordon." Alan murmured.

There were a few moments of silence before Gordon urged his brother to go on. "Go on." He paused. "Tell me what happened next."

Alan sighed, "There was this screeching noise and we were spinning … so fast. I remember glancing down at the dash and the revs where in the red. I cut the power to the engine." He paused again, the memories replaying themselves automatically. "Virgil was yelling at me, telling me I had to get out and I thought he was unfastening his safety harness. When he told me to jump, I thought he was going to jump too. So I did it."

He swallowed. "Virgil hit the harness release and I took it off, and then waited. We hit the first barrier and bounced back out onto the track, but it'd taken a lot of the impact and we were slowing down. The engine was still screaming, it sounded like one of Dad's prototypes was taken off behind us. I waited until we'd slowed down. All I could hear was Virgil shouting at me to get out, so I jumped. I remember hitting the floor and rolling, my shoulder was killing me. I looked up to see where Virgil was, that's when I realised he was still in the car."

Alan paused, a frown of despair contorting his face before he continued. "I started to run towards the car." His breathing hitched and he seemed to become breathless. "I could see Mark coming and I knew, I knew he was going to drive straight into my car. There was no time for him to react and Virgil was in there." A pause came and Gordon did his best to reassure his brother whilst urging him to continue. "I remember hearing this screaming and I kept thinking I wish it'd stop because it was so distracting. Then I realised it was me. I was screaming." Alan scoffed, shaking his head and blinking to dispel the angry tears in his eyes. "Mark drove straight into the car; he couldn't do anything else and there was an explosion. When I look back it all happened so fast but at the time, it was as if it was all happening in slow motion. Suddenly there were all these stewards all over the place and fire crews. A paramedic checked me over and I was being led away. I didn't want to leave but then I saw Scott, the rest you know." Alan concluded.

"Sounds awful." Gordon thought aloud, frowning at the distraught features of his brother.

"It was." Alan confirmed. "It was horrible, worse then horrible."

"Al," Gordon began delicately. "I know it was horrendous but well …" He paused, unsure how to voice the words he wanted to. "Do you remember, it was the Easter before I left for the WASP. Scott was stuck in Nevada, but Virgil and John came home."

Alan nodded, though a frown graced his features. He was completely unaware as to where this was going. "Yeah I remember," Alan said tonelessly, trying to recall the exact details. "You were going out with Melissa Peters." He smirked, the expression contrasted with his tearful features.

Gordon closed his eyes regretfully. "I thought we agreed not to talk about that."

"You brought it up." Alan told him mischievously, sniffling away the tears that had presented themselves.

Gordon opened his mouth to make a sarcastic reply but refrained. As he glanced down to Alan's grin he realised that now wasn't the time to wipe the smirk away with an acerbic comment and physically stopped himself. Smiling at the almost cheerful disposition Alan seemed to have adopted at the recalling of this particular tale, he sighed softly. It was the first time he'd seen Alan smile since the accident yesterday and it was a welcome sight. Alan wasn't usually one to become down and the fact that he seemed almost jovial again, even if it was at his own expense, had Gordon feeling more than a little relieved.

"I didn't bring it up." Gordon's tone remained light-hearted and he purposely didn't use the irritated and snapped tone he would normally use. "Besides that's not was I was going to say."

"You brought up Easter." Alan frowned. "You definitely said …."

"Okay!" Gordon interrupted him with a short laugh, pleased that the nightmares fear seemed to be dissipating. "I brought up Easter but you brought up Melissa Peters." He looked across at the mop of blonde curls alongside him, not needing to see Alan's face to know he'd be finding this amusing. He carried on quickly. "Anyway… What I was going to say was that…" He took a deep breath. "It was that year that Ken Williams died in that car accident."

"Oh." Alan immediately became morose again and Gordon wondered if he was about to undo all the hard work he'd already done. However, he knew that this had been important advice to him at the time and it was important his younger brother knew it too.

Alan sighed, he suddenly felt awkward. Ken Williams had been a friend of Gordon's, through his swimming connections. It wasn't as if Gordon really knew him that well, but he was a nice enough guy and his sudden, tragic death had been a shock to the system for everyone. Gordon had taken the news particularly badly, pretending for the first few days that he was fine. It was only when Alan had taken Virgil to one side and confided in him how worried he was about his brother that Virgil told him he was worried too and that he would talk to Gordon.

Alan thanked the heavens that it was Scott who was away and not Virgil. Scott had always been busy with him whenever Gordon needed anything and it had fallen mostly to Virgil to take care of him. To this day, he didn't know what Virgil had said, but it had certainly had an effect. Gordon began taking late night trips to Virgil's room and often didn't return until the early hours of the morning. Gordon thought no-one else knew but in truth, both John and Alan had commented on it before now.

Alan felt the need to squirm alongside his brother in the awkwardness that followed. "Gordy, I'm sorry." He said eventually, not knowing what else to say.

"Why?" Gordon shook his head. "You didn't kill him. Besides, I don't want to talk about it really." There was a long pause before he continued. "It's just… I… I found it really hard to deal with. I know I didn't know him that well, about as well as you knew Mark." Gordon paused, feeling Alan's every muscle tense alongside him. "Virgil was … great. I used to go into his room at night, in the middle of the night and he'd just listen to me talk, hold me when I got upset and reassure me." Alan refrained from pointing out that both he and John knew where he used to go late at night and let his brother continue.

"He told me once that no matter how hard you try. You can't ignore how you feel on the inside; that no matter how much you don't like it, you always have to deal with it. If you don't, it swallows you up. But it's not something to be ashamed of or scared of, because you're not on your own. And now I'm going to tell you the same thing. You're not on your own Al; you've got the whole family behind you, me included."

Alan nodded, not sure how to respond to the heartfelt words. "Thanks." He replied awkwardly.

"I mean it Al." Gordon told him firmly. "Promise me you'll talk to me, or if not me someone. Whenever you need to."

"I promise." Alan murmured softly.

"It gets easier." Gordon told him.

"It can't get much worse." Alan smiled, yawning. "I'm so tired."

"Try and get some sleep." Gordon stated the obvious reply.

"This is going to sound stupid…" Alan began; Gordon smiled softly in response to his frown and shook his head, illustrating his doubt in that comment. "I'm ….scared of going to sleep. No, not scared, just a bit apprehensive."

Instead of the guffaw that Alan expected to spill forth Gordon just smiled softly and sighed. "You managed to get off to sleep before."

Alan cursed himself for underestimating his brother. He should've known better then to think that Gordon would be anything other than serious when it came to supporting him. However when he sat up, intent to leave Alan to rest the younger man reached out a pleading hand.

"Scott stayed before, until I was asleep." He paused hesitantly, unsure whether he should really ask of his brother the question on his lips. "Can I … will you stay here … until I fall asleep, will you stay?" The staggered sentence eventually came out.

Gordon smiled. "Of course I will." He lay back down pulling the duvet up over Alan and lying back down alongside him. He shivered himself at the cool air circulating around him "Just close your eyes and relax." Gordon whispered as reached for the spare blanket at the bottom of the bed to cease his own chill. He pulled the blanket up covering himself where he lay atop of the covers that kept his brother warm and settled down.

"Thanks Gordy." Alan murmured as he began to feel himself drift away into a soporific sleep. Though this time the knowledge that Gordon would stay to guard his sleep, kept his subconscious mind at bay.

Across the other side of the room, John Tracy settled back into his pillows contently. Satisfied that Gordon would make sure their youngest brother was okay, he allowed his eyes to close once more and blissful sleep to envelope him.


	6. Hostility, Maturity & Reservations

Authors Note: Many, many thanks to all the people who have left reviews; each and every one is highly valued. As I've mentioned before it's extremely helpful to know what parts of a chapter/story the reader enjoys or doesn't enjoy.

Chapter Six – Hostility, Maturity & Reservations

Scott woke suddenly again.

Though, this time there were no nightmares and the room was still. He sat up in his bed and listened hard for any sounds of the noise that had woken him. Only Sam's snoring pierced the silence. Noticing the bathroom light was on under the door, he assumed Virgil was still in the shower and started to lie back down.

However, there was something at the back of his mind telling him, nagging at him and reminding him that Virgil had been in there a long time. He forced himself back up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and pushing himself to his feet. Heading across to the backlit door and raising a hand, he hesitated before he knocked. He knew Virgil wasn't in the best of moods at the moment and to fuss overtly was only giving him ammunition to use at a later date. His concern was too great to ignore though, and he knocked softly.

"Virgil?" He kept his voice as low as he could. Not wanting to disturb Sam, who slept peacefully around the corner. "Virg? Are you in there?"

He heard a muffled curse, followed by a bang and the sound of sucking air as Virgil winced. "Virgil? Are you…"

"I'm fine." A terse reply came back through the wooden door, though the sounds emitted told a different story.

"Well, you don't sound fine." Scott told the closed door. Placing an inquisitive ear to the wooden panel, he listened to another loud bang, more sharp intakes of breath and the sound of Virgil's cursing. "Do you need some help?" Scott asked as a response to the muffled sounds.

"No!" Virgil exclaimed urgently. "I told you. I'm fine, I can manage."

Scott bit his lip, knowing the words had their roots in Virgil's pride; a frown began to smudge his features. "Virg…"

He was cut off by a loud gasp on the other side of the door followed by a diminutive groan. Scott reached for the door automatically, but found it locked. "Virgil!" Scott tried the door handle more rigorously. "Let me in! Virgil!" He whispered fiercely but there was no reply. "Virgil!" Again, no reply came and Scott experimentally barged the door with his shoulder. "Virgil can you hear me?"

He barged at the door again, intent on hitting into it a little harder. To his surprise, the handle moved and as the door was pulled open, he marginally stopped himself barrelling into his brother. Catching Virgil's chest he tried to regain his balance and successfully stopping himself pushing Virgil over. The contact was enough for the younger man though, who clutched at his damaged ribs and winced. He stumbled backwards, grabbing the sink for support.

"God! I didn't mean … are you okay?" Scott reached out to help him but only caused his brother more pain with every touch.

"Don't." Virgil successfully pushed him away, supporting himself against the sink and still struggling to get his breathing under some sort of control. "Just leave it."

"I thought you'd hurt yourself." Scott told him, feeling the need to explain his actions. "I didn't mean to …" He trailed off with a sigh. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Virgil gritted out. "I told you I was fine."

Scott looked to the floor, genuinely surprised by his brother's snappy response. "I heard …" He trailed off not entirely sure what he did hear. "I was worried about you."

Virgil deflated at the anxiousness held in the words. "Well, you don't need to worry I'm fine." He replied sharply.

"No you're not." Scott said softly. "You're not fine and I damned well wish you'd stop pretending you were."

"I've told you, I'm okay. Now, just leave it." Virgil growled as he pushed himself away from the sink with a grimace. "You don't have to fuss around me as if I'm incapable."

"Virgil, I know yesterday was tough but…" Scott stopped himself, watching Virgil's features darken uncharacteristically at his words. "Virg, this isn't like you…"

"I don't have to listen to this." Virgil spoke over him, taking a step forwards.

Scott stepped in his way. Pushing the door closed and shutting them both inside the small bathroom. "No, you're wrong. You do have to listen." Scott snapped. "I am fed up of being snapped at and pushed away."

"You're fed up of being snapped at!" Virgil exclaimed, not giving Scott a chance to continue what he was saying. The older brother knew only too well, he was referring to the sharp words he'd directed at his brother in the lift. "I don't need this right now Scott!" He shook his head heatedly.

Scott sighed, trying to contain his anger. "What the hells got in to you? I'm trying to help you."

"When I need your help, I'll ask for it." Virgil replied. Equalling Scott's irritate gaze.

"I don't understand why you're being like this!" Scott exclaimed taking a step towards his brother and frowning intently. He desperately tried to calm himself down. Confrontation wasn't getting them anywhere but Virgil's behaviour was disturbing him. Scott shook his head sadly. "Last night you did something you've never done in you're life."

"What?" Virgil asked unenthusiastically, searching the room for anywhere else to look other than at Scott.

"You blocked me out. I was trying to help you and you pushed me away." Scott took another step closer to his brother and Virgil recognised the look in his eyes. It was one of confusion, something Scott rarely showed. "And you know what? I'm still trying to help you and you're still pushing me away!"

Virgil shook his head suddenly realising where this conversation was going and the implications that it could have. Implications he wasn't ready to face up to yet. He knew he had to get out before Scott realised it too. "I'm sorry you feel that way Scott," He mumbled. He went to walk past his brother knowing that Scott wouldn't attempt to halt him if it would mean hurting him. "Now, get out of my way."

"Wait!" Scott called after him. "Where are you going?"

Virgil turned to him, moisture suddenly accruing in his eyes and he blinked. Holding back the sudden strong surge of emotions he felt. "I … err … I'm going for a walk." He turned hastily, prepared to ignore the pain. Such was his desire for Scott to miss the tears that were already threatening to spill over onto his cheeks. The pain in his heart and the void he felt inside, far surpassed any pain his ribs were initiating.

"You should be taking it easy with those ribs. Look, give me a minute, I'll come with you." Scott paused. "Make sure you don't overdo it."

"I err …" Virgil fumbled with the lock on the door, finally managing to break free into the hotel corridor. "I just need to get my head straight. To be on my own for a while, I won't be long."

Scott followed him out into the corridor, in time to see Virgil making his way down the hall. Despite his obvious struggle, he calmly continued his quest and walked away from his brother's voice. "Virg, you're not fit enough to …" Scott trailed off. "It's half past six in the morning!" His call was ignored as Virgil continued, completely unfazed. "Virgil!" He was about to follow his brother when he stopped himself. Glancing across at the middle aged woman across the hall who stared at him so intently, he gazed down. Taking in his bare feet and the pair of boxer shorts he wore, barely. He retreated to his room, closing the door as he leant against it and exhaled deeply. He was stressed. He had no idea why Virgil was so intent on isolating himself or why his brother seemed so emotional when he left.

Nevertheless, he intended to find out.

A glance at his watch told him his father would probably be up by now and he pulled on some clothes. He checked on Sam, briefly wondering how he'd managed to sleep before scribbling a note. As he made his way to the door, he felt something in his pocket. Fumbling, he pulled out the key-card Gordon had given him the previous night and decided he would be making a detour on his way up to his father's room.

XxxxX

He let himself in as silently as he could. Stopping to make sure John was asleep as he made his way through the darkness. He was briefly reminded of the look on John's face when their father informed him of the sleeping arrangements.

The hotel had been fully booked, well in advance and despite all of them reminding Alan to book the rooms. As usual, he'd left it until the last minute and subsequently this was the best the hotel could offer. Secretly, Scott thought their father had been pleased at the situation. He'd made a comment about it being good practice for them, cohabiting again. Scott shook his head. He'd looked at Virgil blankly at the time and later they'd brushed the comment off. Neither having a clue what he meant.

The room was set out the same as the one he shared with Virgil and Sam. Scott easily made his way through to the end bed. Startled at the lack of contents there, he searched the room in a hurried fashion. Desperately trying to locate his youngest brother. It was only when he went to wake Gordon that he realised the bundled up figure, hugging his second youngest brother in sleep was Alan. Sighing heavily, he sat down on Gordon's abandoned bed and watched the blonde young man as he slept.

A heavy shadow on his face woke him with a start and Gordon had the feeling he was being watched from the darkness. Turning over slowly, he almost jumped physically at the sight of the silhouette watching him sleep. Before recognising, it was his brother, Scott.

"Jesus Scott!" He exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Sorry." Scott smiled softly. "I came to bring back the key you gave me last night. I must've left it in my pocket."

Gordon eyed his brother with a look of hostile distaste and Scott was reminded that he wasn't Gordon's favourite person at the moment. "Well, leave it on the side." Gordon replied, a little offhand. He closed his eyes in a gesture to cut Scott out and return to his restful sleep.

Scott paused. He always felt so awkward when it came to having to apologise to one of his brothers. John was right; he avoided the word 'sorry' like the plague. He was broken from his thoughts at the sound of Gordon's whispered voice again. "Do you want me to show you out?" Gordon asked sarcastically. "Because I'm a little tied up at the moment." He gestured down to Alan with his hands; his eyes remained closed despite his brusque tone.

Scott lowered his head with a sigh. "No, I wanted to talk to you."

Gordon cracked an eye open. "You sure pick your moments. Talk?"

"About yesterday." Scott was struggling. Gordon could see it but remained determined not to ease his brother's discomfort.

"A lot happened yesterday." Gordon said neutrally.

"You know what I'm talking about Gordy." Scott's patience was beginning to run thin. Gordon opened his eyes, looking across to where his big brother sat on his bed. "I didn't mean to snap at you yesterday. I was worried about Al and Virg, and I was tired."

"We were all worried and tired, Scott." Gordon insisted, his eyes sparkling.

"I know." Scott sighed. "And I know you were only trying to help Alan. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

Gordon lay there in silence waiting for the words 'and I'm sorry' to follow. They didn't come, he should really have known better, he thought.

"I guess that's the nearest I'm ever going to get to an apology." Gordon shrugged. "Everyone had a bad day yesterday, Scott. We were all tired, and worried about Al and Virg. We were all in the same boat." Scott found himself wanting to lower his head but refused to take a lecture from his younger brother so easily.

He suddenly realised that commanding men had given Gordon this ability to think rationally in irrational situation and felt immensely proud of his brother. He was half expecting Gordon to shout at him. And was pleasantly surprised by this calm and collected man in front of him, demanding his respect. He tuned back in to Gordon's words as he continued.

"You shouldn't have spoken to me like that; we all had Alan's best interests at heart and you shouldn't have snapped at Virgil either." Scott opened his mouth to reply but remained bemused at the situation. Gordon spoke quickly before he had the chance. "But, I understand that you were the one that had to answer to father and I know that's not an easy burden to carry. As I'm sure everyone else understands too. Sure, I was angry last night but you know what? Virgil's right. You're under a lot more pressure to take control and be responsible than the rest of us."

"That's no excuse." Scott said softly.

"You're damned right it's no excuse." Scott frowned at the words. "But you do a good job Scott. You look out for us and I know we don't always make it easy for you. It's no excuse but it's understandable, it's just nice to know that you appreciate the fact that it's not always easy for us either."

Scott opened his mouth to respond several times, but no words were forthcoming.

"When did you get so mature?" He smiled eventually. The words had Virgil's influence written all over them. The fact that Gordon had listened and added his own spin on the events was illustrative of his growing wisdom. It suddenly struck Scott that despite the fact that he snapped at his closest friend last night he was still sticking up for him. He wondered just why Virgil was acting like he was. It worried him immensely and further reinforced his suspicions that all was not well with his brother.

Gordon shrugged his reply. "It's Virgil. I've been around him too long; it's rubbing off on me." He smiled jokingly. "Of course the small fact that I have my own men to command now may have a bearing on it. It means I have to be all serious and responsible sometimes. Only sometimes though!" He whispered glancing at Alan and ensuring he still slept.

Scott smirked. "I'm really proud of you." He found himself saying. His mind was still thinking of the situation with Virgil.

Gordon shrugged. "Oh I don't know. I'm not sure I'm cut out for all this commanding stuff. I mean, I'm so used to taking orders at home it feels weird giving them out now. I keep thinking 'what would Scott do?' I don't think it's very 'me', in fact I don't know how you do it."

Scott smiled again. "Gordy, it's something you learn with experience. Practice makes perfect." Scott paused, feeling privileged that his brother thought of him like that. "It doesn't matter whether you're Air Force, WASP, Army, NASA" Scott shook his head; the list was endless. "I'll tell you a secret. All commanders doubt some orders that they give, especially at the beginning. The secret is to not let that show. To appear confident even when you're terrified, to come across as powerful even when you feel weak and to be in control even when the world is falling apart around you. You have to. You have to be all those things, for your men."

Gordon swallowed. "Have you ever doubted yourself?" He asked softly.

Scott nodded. "Of course I have. Everyone does and if they tell you any different they're lying." Scott paused, knowing the next question would be when and how he'd doubted an order that he'd given. Not something he wanted to get into with Gordon. He decidedly changed the subject. "Anyway, enough shop talk. How's Al doing?"

Gordon smiled. "Okay, I think. He had a bad dream last night, but we talked and I think he'll be alright. He promised me that he's going to talk to me or one of us when he needs to. And I think I managed to get through to him that none of this was his fault."

Scott nodded. "I tried to do that yesterday. He felt bad that he'd jumped and left Virgil in the car. I pointed out to him that if he hadn't jumped, Mark would have hit exactly where he would have been sitting. He'd have been killed for sure."

Gordon nodded. "Well last night, I think he was starting to doubt himself. After the accident he was so sure that he'd put it in fourth but last night I think he was starting to entertain the idea that maybe it was his mistake."

"I hope you put him straight." Scott whispered.

"Of course I did." Gordon told him; offended that Scott could think otherwise.

"And was he convinced?"

"Yeah." Gordon nodded. "I think so, he knows we'll support him whatever the outcome of this investigation is. And he knows that we have faith in him, that he can talk to us anytime."

"Good." Scott nodded. "I was worried about how he was coping yesterday."

Again, Gordon put Scott's anxiousness to ease. "I think it was still sinking in, the shock and everything. He's doing alright Scott and we're all going to be keeping a close eye on them both. I won't let him be anything other than okay." Scott nodded, seemingly content with Gordon's words. "It's not going to happen tomorrow but don't worry, he'll be alright." Gordon paused. "What about Virg?"

Scott's deep but harrowing sigh revealed his answer better then a thousand words. "It's amazing, I expected Virgil to talk things through and cope okay with it. I mean he's been through worse." Gordon frowned at that but refrained from comment. "And I expected Alan to try and deal with it on his own and not accept the help anyone offered."

"Is that what Virgil's doing?" Gordon asked softly, as Alan mumbled in his sleep.

Scott nodded. "Yeah, every time I've tried to talk to him he's shut me out. He's won't accept any help from anyone and he can't deal with this on his own Gordy."

Gordon sighed, knowing Scott would not like what he was about to say. "Are you sure it's help from anyone that he's pushing away and not just help from you?"

Scott frowned, immediately defensive. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! Nothing, it's just…" Gordon paused. "You snapped at him too last night. Maybe he's mad with you. From his point of view, you made him look stupid in front of one of his best friends. I know Sam's a good friend to all of us but he goes back years with Virgil."

Scott shook his head. "No, that's not it. I asked him if he was mad with me, he said he wasn't. No, I know Virgil; he only ever reacts like this when something's too big for him to get his head round." Scott paused, not really wanting to voice his concerns for fear of the truth in them. "I think something else happened in that car. Something that he's not telling us, something to make Virg react like this and I plan on finding out." Scott finished grimly.

"Scott, I'm telling you. Interrogating Alan isn't going to get you anywhere right now. He told me everything last night and there's no way he was lying or missing parts out. He was in pieces, if there was something else he would've told me." Gordon misconstrued what Scott was saying.

"I don't necessarily mean Alan's not telling us everything. I mean Virgil." Scott told him miserably.

"Have you talked to him?" Gordon asked, concerned as Alan stirred again.

"I tried, but he won't listen to me." Gordon frowned at the news; his two eldest brothers were and always had been extremely close. This was a revelation in itself. "I don't know what he was doing this morning in the shower but …"

Gordon raised an eyebrow with an accompanying smirk and Scott saw that his newfound maturity hadn't completely overridden his mischievous behaviour. Scott continued on, ignoring the insinuation. "There where these loud bangs and he was gasping for breath and groaning." Scott looked up again to see that Gordon's mischievous smirk had transformed into a wide grin.

"Are you sure he was on his own?" Gordon giggled.

"Not like that!" Scott frowned. "As if he was in pain." That wiped the grin of Gordon's face rapidly.

"Well, did you check he was okay?" The younger man asked, suddenly frowning in concern.

"I tried to go in, but he wouldn't let me." Scott sighed. "He seemed okay but I don't understand why he's so reluctant to ask for help when he needs it now. He only managed to get his race suit back on at the hospital, I practically dressed him and he didn't seem bothered then."

"There's a bit of difference between putting his socks on and scrubbing his back Scott." Gordon shrugged. "His prides at stake here."

"I know, but he shouldn't put himself through that just for the sake of his pride." Scott shook his head. He was surprised he was telling Gordon all this; maybe Virgil's ability to make him talk had rubbed off too.

"Put yourself in his position Scott. Would you let him in to help you take a shower?"

Scott went to reply but stopped himself. He wanted so much to answer yes to that question but he knew deep down his own pride would stop him. Thankfully, he was saved from answering as Alan stirred again.

"I'd better go see Dad." Scott said softly. "He won't like it if he wakes up and finds me here."

"What?" Gordon smiled. "It'll hurt his pride if he realises that his big brother knows that he spent the night in the same bed as me?" He made his point. "It's not like we had rampant sex last night." The mischievous smirk was back. "We save that for special occasions."

Scott merely shook his head, laughing. "Take it easy on him, yeah?"

"Of course I will. You going to be alright with Virg?" Gordon asked, concern reappearing.

"Yeah. You just keep an eye on him and I'll sort Virgil out." Scott nodded, glancing at Gordon as he made his way round the bed. "Thanks Gordy." He said sincerely, studying his auburn-haired brother's closed eyes. "And I'm sorry about last night." Gordon's eyes snapped open in pure shock at the words.

"God Scott!" He mocked. "You really are trying to give me a heart attack aren't you?"

Scott just smirked as he made his way to the door. That was twice he'd said those words in the space of twenty four hours to two different brothers. Heading up to his father's room on the floor above, he wondered if he was softening up in his old age.

XxxxX

He knocked sharply on the door to the hotel room his father was occupying. Before many minutes and as Scott had expected, a smartly dressed Jeff Tracy opened it. "Morning Scott." The older man smiled, "I've been expecting you. Is everything okay?" He voiced his concern as he gestured for Scott to go on into the room.

Scott sighed. "As okay as it can be I think." He ran a hand over his head tiredly and bit the bullet. "Look, Dad. I know I should have dealt with things differently last night; I realise that." He opened his mouth to continue but it appeared Jeff had other ideas.

"Sit down Son." Jeff gestured to one of the armchairs overlooking the city view. He sat in the other, picking up a waiting coffee cup. "Coffee?"

Scott nodded. "Thanks." He sighed, perplexed by his father's behaviour. He had expected him to be angry that the situation last night had been confrontational. Moreover, that it hadn't been dealt with efficiently enough to prevent causing a scene.

Jeff passed Scott a cup and sighed heartily as he lent back into the chair. "How are the boys?"

"Fine." Too quick, he cursed himself as he shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee and realising it was too hot to drink. "Are you okay?" He asked his father, attempting to turn the conversation around.

Jeff seemed to ignore the question. "How are Alan and Virgil?" Jeff studied his eldest son. Intent on reading, as much as listening to his reply. It was evident already that Scott was unwilling to expand on 'fine'. Jeff had other ideas, he wanted to know.

"Al's doing much better. I spoke to Gordon this morning and he said they'd had a long talk last night and that Alan was coping okay." Scott didn't meet his father's gaze, instead looking down at the coffee in his hands.

"And Virgil?" Jeff frowned; he knew he shouldn't have to prompt Scott like he was. Alarm bells were already starting to chime. Scott's lack of explanation was little short of disturbing, especially considering the relationship he shared with Virgil.

Scott sighed. "He's doing ok." He justified the lie to himself; if he could get to Virgil and talk to him then he would be fine. "Y'know Virgil."

Scott's faked smile, further added to the concern Jeff felt.

"Yes I do." Jeff frowned. "But not as well as you do, that's why I'm asking Scott."

Scott winced at the comment; it was a fact that Jeff was constantly regretting. His father's tone was one not to ignore and Scott thought furiously. "He's just being stubborn that's all." Scott covered quickly, gulping under his father's inquisitive stare. "He doesn't want to have to ask for help and he's upset. I haven't really had a chance to talk to him yet. He was already asleep last night but I will."

Jeff bit his bottom lip and nodded warily. Though not one hundred percent convinced, it would have to do for now. "Well, keep an eye on him. Will you? I was worried enough yesterday."

Scott nodded sheepishly, eager to change the conversation. "How's the investigation going?"

Jeff took a moment to consider his options. Whether he should allow Scott to manipulate the conversation so easily. With a resigned sigh, he sat back. "Well, they're going over the car with a fine tooth comb." He watched Scott relax at his words. "The Crash Investigation Team want to speak to Virgil, Sam and Alan at some point today. Jack made a statement yesterday apparently, though what any of this has to do with him is beyond me." Scott couldn't help but notice the unusual bitterness in his father's voice.

"Have they found anything?" Scott asked, sipping at the coffee cautiously.

"They're not at liberty to say." Jeff said jadedly, shaking his head. Scott could see it was a line he'd heard a few times. "We have to wait for the official documentation to be released."

"When will that be?" Scott frowned, hoping they were talking days and not months.

"Wednesday." Jeff sighed. "There'll be a preliminary hearing. Depending on the outcome of that, there may or may not be an inquest. I just hope it's what we want to hear."

"Meaning?" Scott frowned harder.

"Meaning if Ferrari US sent that car back to us with a fault, it won't just be my lawyers they're answering. It'll be the Jamison's too." Scott suddenly understood what he meant. "On the other hand, if it comes down to Sam or Alan's neglect we could be in serious trouble ourselves."

Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What a mess." He muttered. Decidedly not mentioning to his father that Alan was having doubts about his contribution to the crash.

"I want this cleared up as soon as possible Scott. As soon as Virgil, Alan and Sam are awake this morning, I'm going to take them down to the Investigation Team's office on the other side of the circuit. We'll get these statements done and out of the way. Will you let Virgil and Sam know?"

Scott nodded. "Sure, I'll tell them."

"Good." Jeff smiled. "I'll talk to Alan when he wakes up." Jeff studied his son, bemused at the expression Scott sported. "You look surprised."

"Surprised?" Scott queried.

"Did you think I'd be mad, about last night?" Scott bowed his head, answering the question without nodding. "Scott, I know you did everything you could to diffuse the situation. Jack was drunk and intent on causing a scene, you wouldn't have stopped him if you'd just walked away. I expect a lot of you, you know that and you know you should lead by example when it comes to your brothers." He shook his head, taking a different angle. "If you could go back, what would you do differently?"

Scott shrugged, not surprised but the comment; their father liked them to evaluate their own actions. "Walk away when it first started. That way Alan would never have gotten involved and Virgil wouldn't have been hurt."

"Hurt?" Jeff asked, concerned.

"Didn't John tell you? Jack caught him in the ribs; it pretty much floored him." Scott was surprised that John hadn't told their father.

"Well he told me, but he said it wasn't anything serious." Scott recognised the look of annoyance in his father's eyes at the prospect that John had hidden the facts from him.

Scott shrugged. "It wasn't really. He's fine, he was just tired that was all."

"Is he alright now?" Scott's words had obviously not placated the older mans concern.

Scott swallowed. "He's upset; he'll be fine once I've talked to him."

Jeff nodded, deep in thought. Aware that Scott was repeating himself; a sure sign he was uncomfortable. "I wanted to talk to him myself, last night." Jeff confided. "I was worried about him and I wanted to check he was okay. By the time I reached your room he was only fit for bed." He paused. "I'll check in on him this morning. I spent most of the afternoon yesterday with Alan before I had to go to the circuit." Scott could only imagine how torn his father had felt yesterday, but the expression on his face demonstrated effectively his distress.

Scott swallowed; the last thing he wanted was his father to have an opportunity to speak to Virgil before he did. "Dad, he doesn't like people fussing. Just let me talk to him. Yeah?"

"Are you sure he's okay?" Jeff asked suspiciously, Scott's behaviour was beginning to bother him. Truth be known, Jeff had been terrified yesterday about his sons safety. The prospect of losing any of them was almost too much for him to consider. Yesterday had certainly opened his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah he's fine. Dad, just let me deal with him. I'll make sure he's okay." Scott promised, wholeheartedly hoping his father would agree.

Eventually, Jeff nodded. "Okay, but I'm trusting you with this."

Scott nodded again, grateful that his father was prepared to leave it. "Have I ever let you down before?"

Sighing, Jeff shook his head. "No Son, you've never let me down. I still want to talk to him though. He seemed too exhausted last night to hold a proper conversation and he was in a lot of pain."

Scott agreed sadly. "Yeah I know." His thoughts turned to Virgil again.

Jeff heaved a heavy sigh. "I suppose we should be grateful they're both okay." Scott followed his father as he made his way out onto the balcony. "I nearly had a heart attack yesterday when John told me, and Alan was in such a state. Those few seconds before we knew what was happening were the longest in my life Scott." He paused again and Scott knew to remain quite and let his father speak. "You know I've been working on a special project for the business."

Scott nodded. "John said something about the bad publicity."

Jeff shook his head. "I don't give a damn about publicity Scott as long as you boys are okay." Another pause passed. "I've been working so hard on this project because it's so important to me that it's a success, Son." Scott frowned at his fathers significant words. "I never realised what it'd be like. Not knowing if either of them were alive or dead. I underestimated the power of that feeling of helplessness Scott." Scott's frown deepened, not entirely sure what his father was meaning. "I've been so absorbed with this project and starting the wheels in motion that I didn't stop to really consider what it's going to be like." He sighed; that was now the problem that faced him.

At some time or another during his sons' lives, they had all expressed a desire to help others and prevent people from going through what they had been forced to. That fact had reassured Jeff that this project was a chance they would all jump at. However, now he could identify what that feeling of not knowing was like. Not knowing what was going on or if any of his sons had been hurt, or worse. The issue was no longer, whether or not his sons would agree but whether he could handle it if they did. Could he handle sending them into danger, not knowing what was happening? Was that even his decision to make?

"Dad, I'm not sure I understand." Scott waited for his father to explain, confusion dominating his features.

Jeff turned to clap him on the back with a hand, the other still holding his coffee cup. "You will son, you will." Scott's frown only deepened while Jeff finished off the coffee in his hand and glanced at his watch. "I'd better go down and talk to Alan. He'll be up now."

Scott followed his father back into the hotel room, more than a little confused by his words. He thoughtfully put it down to anxiousness; stress on his father's part, and shook his head. Jeff had certainly seemed stressed out recently and Gordon had been right. He did need this break. With the extra worry of Virgil and Alan, Scott knew it couldn't be easy being his father at the minute.

"I'll see you later Scott. I'll come down and see Virgil after I've looked in on Alan. Will you make sure he's ready? I really want to get these statements out of the way."

"Sure. Take it easy Dad, see you later." Scott made his exit. Hoping as he did that by the time he arrived back at their room, Virgil would have returned from his walk. He could really do with clearing the air with his closest brother and he really needed to talk.

Meanwhile, Jeff Tracy gathered his thoughts. He already knew deep down he couldn't let his own selfish feelings override his plans. In comparison, his own anxiousness was insignificant when you considered the lives that could benefit.


	7. Exhausted Patience

Authors Note: Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter. I continue to appreciate the support and welcome everyone's comments, thank you.

Chapter Seven – Exhausted Patience 

Gordon grimaced; annoyed at the consistent sound of John's strumming fingers as they waited in silence. Eventually he could bear it no longer and reached out to place a hand over his brothers. "Cut it out, will you?" He whispered fiercely.

John looked apologetically at his brother. "Sorry."

Gordon nodded his acceptance as he glanced over to where Scott sat fiddling with the expensive silver watch on his wrist. Gordon sighed and glanced at his own watch before turning to his blondest brother. "It's been nearly two and a half hours. I really think we should try and call Dad."

John kept his tone low. "Dad needs to focus on Al right now, the last thing he needs is Virgil going AWOL. Besides …" John sighed. "Scott told him Virg was asleep when he called, somehow I doubt he'll be too pleased if he finds out that Virgil was never even here!" John paused, his exasperation showing.

"I think he might notice when Virgil doesn't show up for his interview with the investigators!" Gordon bit back equally frustrated. John only shook his head in reply as he too glanced across to Scott.

He had to admit that Gordon had a point. "Hopefully, he'll be back before then." John sighed again. "Running to Dad isn't going to do anything except escalate the whole situation." He added snidely.

That last comment had Gordon's head snap up in unrestrained incense. "I'm not running to Dad." He snapped, silently fuming. "I just think it would be the sensible thing to do. Virgil could be anywhere, Scott was right; we should be out there looking for him. Sitting here waiting isn't doing anything except making everyone even more stressed." The anger in him suddenly drained. "He could be hurt John and we're just sat here."

"I know, I know." John shook his head regretfully; the thought had crossed his mind too. He was certain it had crossed Scott's on more than one occasion. He rubbed at his eyes irritatedly. "Look, give him another half an hour and then we'll see." Gordon sighed. John presumed by the lack of disagreement, his brother consented to the compromise. "Alright, let's just try and keep calm. I'm sure he'll turn up."

Gordon leant closer. "It's not me that needs reminding to keep calm."

He gestured to where Scott silently stared ahead. He fiddled restlessly with his watch, glancing down at the time periodically as he sighed heavily every few seconds. Scott suddenly got to his feet again and began pacing the small space between his own bed and Sam's. To Gordon, it seemed to be the tenth time he'd done so, in as many minutes.

"Scott, why don't you sit down? I'll get you a drink." John suggested.

Scott turned to him as if he'd only just realised they were in the room. "What? Sorry John, I was miles away. What did you say?"

Gordon exchanged meaningful glances with his blonde brother. As if to clarify that his point had just been proved.

"I said you should sit down. Do you want a drink?" John frowned at his eldest brother as Scott blatantly disregarded his comment. Continuing to pace and now shaking his head, obviously deep in thought.

"Y'know," Gordon muttered under his breath. "I'm not sure I want to be Virgil right now. Boy! Is he going to get it when he does come back!"

John ignored his auburn haired brother and walked across to Scott. "He'll be okay Scott." He reassured.

"If he was in trouble he would've called us."

"Would that be with the 'phone he's not answering!" Scott sighed, his frustration shining through as he gestured wildly at his own 'phone resting on the bed. Exhaling again dejectedly, he shook his head once more. "You didn't see the state of him John." Scott bit his lip.

John looked across at Gordon warily. The younger man blinked, taking a deep breath. "Maybe we should call Dad." John turned angry eyes on him at the suggestion. "It's just a suggestion." He defended himself at John's angry glare.

"A suggestion we've already considered." John told him harshly, scowling at his brother. "And dismissed."

"Scott, you said yourself he was hurt. He couldn't have gone far. You were right earlier; we should go and look for him." Gordon said, purposely addressing his oldest brother and stressing that fact that Virgil was hurt. Something he was sure Scott would be tearing himself up about. "He could be hurt somewhere, alone and needing our help. We need to do something!"

Temporarily ignoring the horrified expression on Scott's face as his worst fears were vocalised. John rounded on his youngest brother, scowling deeply and grinding his teeth together. "Gordon," He said calmly. "Who was it that told you that if you haven't got anything constructive to say, don't say anything at all?"

"Virgil." Gordon said softly, staring above where both his older brother's stared at him.

"Exactly, now …"

Gordon cut off whatever John was going to say. "No, I mean." He raised his right hand, pointing behind his brothers. "Virgil!" He exclaimed.

Both John and Scott pivoted round to spy their brother behind them. Virgil watched with trepidation as Scott's face lit up with relief before it clouded in anger and finally relaxed with concern. John took a step closer to him, a frown of worry clearly displayed on his features. Virgil met his eldest brother's gaze.

"What are you all doing?" Virgil asked. He struggled to remain stood up; his legs felt like jelly and the room spun around him as if he were on a roller coaster. The walk had exhausted him much easier then he could have ever anticipated and the pain with each step had only seemed to increase. He felt tired, hot and so empty inside that the inside of his cheeks tingled with the nausea he felt.

"Oh y'know." Gordon joked, trying to ease the mood as he watched John worry and Scott fume. "Just, waiting for you." He smiled as he got to his feet.

"Are you aright?" John moved closer to his second eldest brother as he spoke, ignoring Gordon altogether. "You look terrible."

Virgil's eyes refused to leave Scott's. He could see his brother was angry and he felt incredibly bad for the way he'd acted yesterday. Somehow though, when he looked deep into Scott's eyes and saw only fury. He knew his brother wasn't ready to accept his apology yet.

Virgil wanted to shrug indifferently, but his tired, painful body just failed to comply. He really didn't have the energy at the moment, or the self-restraint to hide the horrendous pain with every movement.

"I'm okay." He settled for a smile of reassurance but found he couldn't divert his gaze from Scott. Their eyes locked together, reading each other's thoughts.

John merely nodded, not accepting the answer but noticing the intense stare his elder brothers were exchanging. Reluctantly accepting the fact that Scott would ensure he really was okay, and undoubtedly point out that he'd worried them sick too.

He was reminded of Scott's harsh words the night before. He suddenly felt maybe they should leave him alone to play big brother, as he'd put it, as much as he liked.

"Right, well we'd better go down and wait for Al." John announced glancing back at Gordon and urging him with his eyes that they should be leaving.

"Al said he'd call when they were leaving." Gordon frowned.

John glared at his younger brother once more. Throughout the last hour or so, he'd become increasingly frustrated by Gordon's attitude and lack of thought. "Well I left my 'phone in our room." He said pointedly.

"Oh." Gordon finally cottoned on. "Oh, right. Okay." He grimaced at the expression John sported; it didn't bode well for him. He stood up and made his way over to Scott, placing a hand on his oldest brother's shoulder. "Go easy on him Scott." He said softly, noticing Scott's stare hadn't left Virgil. "He doesn't look too good."

"Are you sure you're okay?" John was asking Virgil as Gordon approached. Virgil's nod seemed the only indication forthcoming and the blonde brother continued. "Listen, Dad's taken Sam and Alan down to talk to the investigators. He wants you to talk to them too as soon as possible."

"But if you're not up to it, it doesn't matter." Gordon was quick to point out. Closer inspection of his brother drove Gordon to the conclusion that Virgil looked a lot worse then he'd originally thought. His complexion was a shadow of its former self; pale and sallow, whilst his eyes seemed dark and dull, aging him.

Virgil just nodded again; unaware that John and Gordon were exchanging glances by his side. "Come on Gords. You get some rest Virg." John went to clap him on the shoulder but hesitated. He remembered Alan flinching away from him, having done exactly the same thing yesterday. Eventually he grasped his brother's forearm and smiled. Virgil was far too preoccupied with Scott's insistent staring to really take any notice. As he headed for the door, he glanced back one more time to see Gordon biding his farewells and following him. Leaving their two eldest brothers alone, they headed to their own room.

"I don't envy Virgil right now." Gordon said conversationally. "Mount St Scott is going to blow and it is not going to be pretty."

John sighed as they wandered in the direction of their own room. "Virgil didn't look too good though." He frowned anxiously shaking his head. "I sure hope Scott isn't too hard on him. He's going to regret going for that walk, he looked like death warmed up." He stopped to glare at his brother. "And you're 'he could be anywhere, hurt and alone' comments didn't help."

"John!" Gordon exclaimed. "Look, the way I see it. They shouldn't be lying to Dad."

"Don't you think Dad's got enough on his plate at the moment?" John asked as they reached the lift. "You saw him yesterday, he was worried sick. He felt terrible for staying with Alan when he felt he should've gone with Virgil. He feels torn because they were both sick and they both needed him but he could only be with one of them." John paused for breath, only briefly though. "You saw how he was with Alan in the afternoon. He spent over an hour last night just watching Virgil sleep before I left to get Scott. You were there Gordy, you saw how worried he was and you said yourself how stressed he was at the minute before all this even happened!" John paused as they finally approached their hotel room. "Scott's just trying to help Dad. He's just trying to save him some worry, trying to take the pressure off. Believe me; what Dad doesn't know can't hurt him."

"I understand that." Gordon said calmly. "And you're right; Dad doesn't need all this extra stress and worry. But John, Virgil was in no fit state to talk to anyone. When he can't be interviewed this afternoon, don't you think Dad's going to want some kind of explanation?"

John stopped to consider what his brother was saying. "Scott'll think of something."

"He'd better." Gordon raised his eyebrows. "Because I'd rather face a firing squad than Dad when he finds out we've lied to him. Especially when he sees the state Virgil's in."

XxxxX

Silence.

The door clicked shut behind John and Gordon and for a few seconds there was only silence. Hostile, angry, awkward silence.

Then suddenly, the eruption came. Loud against Virgil's pounding head and distinguished against the previous instability.

"Where the hell have you been?" The snarled words completely contrasted the concern and distress held in Scott's eyes.

"I told you, I went for a walk." Virgil replied, steadily. Not biting at the harsh tone his brother used but concentrating on the anxiousness in his eyes. Hoping to calm him enough for Scott to, at least listen to his apology.

"Yeah!" Scott exclaimed. "You also told me that you wouldn't be long!" He waved a hand randomly through the air. He wanted to stay angry with his brother. Wanted Virgil to know how furious he was at the way he'd pushed him away and worried him sick in the space of twelve hours. "That was nearly three hours ago!"

He fumed; the worry was fast turning into relief. With it came an irresistible urge to just wrap his arms around Virgil, but he was determined to fight it. Though his face remained taught and demonstrated his antagonism perfectly, his voice betrayed him. And whilst to anyone else he sounded angry, Virgil knew he was wavering into relief.

"It took longer then I thought." Virgil defended. "Look Scott, I know you're upset. You've every right to be, I'm sorry." Virgil automatically started to sigh but stopped himself. Remembering how difficult the simple task had become and just how painful any movement or breath was to take.

"You're damned right I'm upset!" Scott fumed. "I was worried sick! It's only thanks to John that I didn't send a search team out!"

"I'm sorry; I don't know what else to say." Virgil asked softly, hanging his head slightly in despair.

Scott watched his brother with some regret. Sympathy soon replaced his anger as he really took in how terrible Virgil appeared. He sighed harshly, shaking his head and running his hands vigorously over his face. For a few minutes, he let the rage and anxiety fight for dominance.

Eventually he heaved a heavy sigh and turned away from his brother as he ran a hand over his hair. Before turning back; clearly faltering.

"Are you alright?" Now his voice easily matched the concern in his eyes.

Virgil smiled softly. "You mean apart from the fact that the room is spinning and I can hardly feel my legs?" He joked lamely. He attempted a smile but it seemed to take too much energy and probably looked to Scott more like a grimace.

Scott swallowed. "Sit down." He ordered frostily.

His tone wasn't half as antagonistic as before but the anger was still there, overshadowed by anxiety. He gestured to the nearest bed. Watching as Virgil took a few unsteady steps towards his goal with heightened concern. Virgil eventually came to a stop in front of him, swaying unsteadily.

Scott was about to reach out to him when he sat down on the bed. A tight grimace was the only outward sign of the pain he felt, though on the inside he was on fire. Throughout the morning, the bruised muscles in his torso had contorted; his chest becoming progressively tighter. He knew he'd acted irrationally earlier, but only now the rage that had clouded his decision, was beginning to lift. Allowing his tired mind to realise how foolish he'd been. The damage had been done now, and his chest burned with the effort it took to breath.

"Do you feel light-headed?" Scott asked. Virgil looked up at his brother to see a familiar frown of concern dimming the dark haired man's features. In response to the question Virgil only nodded, so Scott's inquiry continued. "What else?"

"Tired." Virgil blinked, he felt even more exhausted then he had before, now he'd sat down. "A little unsteady on my feet." He grasped his ribs gently, breathing as deeply as he dared. "It hurts." He confided.

"I'm not surprised." Scott muttered, hovering above him. "What the hell were you thinking? Look at the state of you." He raised a hand to his brother's brow, and shook his head. "You're hot."

"Yeah, well I feel like I've run a marathon." Virgil smiled, but Scott didn't return it. "I'm sorry Scott." He repeated.

Scott seemed to ignore the apology. "Lie down." Virgil noted it was the second order Scott had given and concluded that his brother needed to feel in control now. After three long hours of fretting about his whereabouts. Virgil winced at the thought; he had never intended to be so long or to cause his older brother so much stress. He knew how worried Scott would have been. Hence the silently executed anger now and the increasing blatancy of just how upset Scott was.

Conforming to Scott's orders was Virgil's only option. Wanting to neither upset his brother further nor remove Scott's much needed element of control. He watched his brother closely as Scott grasped the tops of his arms and lowered him towards the comfort of the mattress. Scott purposely didn't look at him and he knew far too well that it was because of his own actions. He could see Scott was torn between distancing himself and stewing in his fury, or allowing the anxiousness he felt to consume him totally. It was due to this tug of war with his emotions that he seemed concerned yet remote. Virgil was so busy watching his brother's every reaction that the pain when he moved caught him by surprise. He bit down on his bottom lip but it was too late; Scott had already seen.

"Does that hurt?" The idea that the simple movement had caused his brother pain caused Scott's concealed anger to evaporate to the back of his mind. For now.

"A bit." Virgil lied then he mentally berated himself; he had to stop pretending that he was okay. That's what had got him into this mess in the first place. If he couldn't be honest with Scott, whom could he be honest with.

"Have you taken any of the pills Dr Williams prescribed?" Scott perched alongside him on the bed anxiously. Already searching the bedside table for the aforementioned tablets.

Virgil shook his head, the comfort of the mattress beginning to sink into his weary bones. He wasn't at all bothered who's mattress it was, all he cared about was that the fact that he could rest. He allowed his eyes to close.

"Why not?" Scott raised his eyebrows, expectant of an answer.

Virgil sniffed, opening his eyes fractionally. "Too busy running away?" He asked, a sad smile playing on his lips.

Scott bowed his head, wetting his lips before he replied. "You still running?" He asked, softening to his brother's state of exhaustion and regret.

Virgil shook his head, not opening his eyes this time. "No energy." He smirked. "I was stupid." He muttered sleepily. " And I'm sorry." He paused. "Stupid." He sighed lightly, as he allowed his body to drift off into a much needed slumber.

"Virgil?" Scott asked softly but urgently. Afraid that his brother had slipped into something deeper then sleep. When no reply came, he reached out to Virgil's arm, "Virg?" He asked again.

"Mmm huh." Virgil muttered in his sleep as he swallowed and his eyelids fluttered a little. Satisfied that he was only asleep Scott sat back. Palming the prescribed pills, he read the directions. Keeping a watchful eye on his sleeping brother, he picked up the nearest 'phone and rang down to room service to order some food. Finally, settling back down, lying on his own bed and watching his brother sleep. Apprehensively he tried to decide a course of action, Virgil hadn't done himself any favours going for that walk and he openly admitted that he'd be running away.

A part of Scott wanted to make his brother realise just how angry he was but Virgil had been right. He'd apologised what more could he do? He obviously realised the error of his ways. Scott knew his brother well and he seemed regretful. As he watched Virgil sleep now, he noted every grimace of pain with each small movement. To Scott, Virgil seemed vulnerable and he wasn't used to seeing this particular brother so susceptible, it disturbed him more than he would admit. At the moment, as he sat silently in contemplation. He became suddenly aware of how Virgil's semi contented sleep accentuated just how ill he looked. Maybe his current state was punishment enough and he should just leave it, Scott considered. Maybe he should be concentrating on the question that cursed through his mind now. Just what was his brother running away from?

XxxxX

"You alright Alan?" Jeff Tracy stared down at the nervous young man beside him. Seated in two of the plastic seats that lined the drably decorated corridor; they waited anxiously for Alan to be interviewed.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, fine." Alan smiled though his anxiety was plain to see. "Just wondering how Sam's getting on in there."

"I'm sure Sam's doing just fine." Jeff glanced at his watch, secretly wondering what was taking so long. He tried to ease his son's obvious anguish. "You know, these pictures are amazing." He gestured to the random framed pictures that hung from the walls. All originals of current and ex racing professionals, but he soon realised Alan wasn't listening to him. "Son, you'll be fine. All you have to do is tell them the truth."

Alan nodded. "I thought Virgil might've been here by now." The last thing he wanted to talk about was the truth.

"Hmm." Jeff nodded with a frown. "Scott said he'd bring him down as soon as he woke up. Maybe they got held up." Jeff thought aloud.

"Maybe." Alan sighed. "Though it took me ages to get ready this morning. I only just managed myself and my ribs aren't anything compared to Virgil's."

"How's the shoulder?" Jeff asked.

"Okay, whilst the tablets are working." Alan sighed. "Hurts like hell when they're not. John said I should try and get something stronger, but I'm managing okay at the minute."

Jeff nodded. "You only have to ask."

"I can cope Dad." Alan said quickly, determinedly. Causing Jeff to glance down and wonder if this mature attitude and calm courage was all a falsified attempt at convincing them all he was an adult now. Something that Alan had been desperately trying to persuade all of them of for goodness knows how long.

"I'm not a kid." Alan told him. In those few softly spoken words came the spur he needed to talk to Scott. Just how much was Alan coping with this and how much was an attempt to prove to his family how responsible he could be.

"Alan, you know this is a terrible accident, but we're your family. There's nothing you have to prove to us." Jeff sighed.

Alan looked up to his wise eyes. "You mean if I want to shout and scream and bawl my eyes out then I can?" He paused, swallowing. "Where would that get me?" He smiled weakly, pushing himself to his feet. Unable to look at his father as he said those words, with the knowledge that it was all he truly wanted to do.

"Alan …"

"Mr Tracy?" Jeff was cut off, as a woman approached them. A brown file in her arms, she strode towards them confidently, holding her hand out to Alan. Jeff noticed the pressed black suit matched her crisp English accent with the way it exuded profession and authority. The lack of make-up and the dark mop of hair scraped back into a tight ponytail all adding to her brisk, harsh appearance.

Alan shook the offered hand. Swallowing back his nerves as he suddenly noticed Sam at her side, looking less then pleased. "Caroline Dews, Senior Investigator." She introduced herself, turning to stare at Jeff in a derogatory manner. "And you are?"

"Jeff Tracy," She turned to shake his hand as well. "I'm Alan's father."

For a few seconds it seemed she thought his presence odd. "I see." She mumbled, "Well, if you'd just wait here." She turned back to Alan. "This way, if you would Mr Tracy." Alan followed her down the corridor, as she strode with purpose. Jeff watched them go, waiting until the clip-clop of her frumpy high heeled shoes echoed out. He turned to Sam.

"How did it go Son?" He asked, gesturing for him to sit down.

"I'm so sorry Mr Tracy." Sam apologised. "It was terrible."

"Terrible?" Jeff asked. "Why, what happened?"

"They practically accused me of letting the car go out, when I knew there was a fault with it. Then they started asking about Alan's driving skills and why Virgil was in the car. I didn't know what to say." Sam shook his head.

"So you were right. They said there was a fault on the car, that's definitely what caused it?" Jeff asked.

Sam shrugged a reply. "They wouldn't tell me anything for sure. Just said we'd have to wait for the report to be published. They think it's all my fault, I know they do." He got to his feet. "I'm going to head back." He said miserably.

"Well, if you wait a few minutes until Alan's finished. You can come back with us." Jeff suggested.

"Thanks for the offer Mr Tracy." Sam smiled. "But I'd rather walk. It's not far and I need the fresh air."

Jeff nodded but Sam was already walking away. He sighed, reaching into his pocket and fishing out his 'phone he waited for Scott to answer. After several rings and no answer, he decided to try John.

"Hi Dad!" Came the excessively cheery greeting.

"Hi Son." Jeff replied, somewhat more sombrely.

"How's it going?" John asked conversationally. Wondering if this was the 'Where's Virgil?' call.

"Not so good. I think we could be here a while yet. Can you let Virgil know that he probably won't be needed today?" John heaved a silent sigh of respite. "Sam's only just come out. Alan's in there now."

John nodded. "Sure." He tried to conceal his relief, surprised that he was succeeding.

"I've been trying to get hold of Scott, but he's not answering." Jeff continued. "Do you know where he is?"

John shrugged, he hated having to lie to his father and he knew he wasn't very good at it. "No Dad, we can go up and check their room if you like?" He tried to sound helpful.

"No, it's alright." Jeff sighed, evidently too preoccupied to notice John's blatant lie. In all honesty, John couldn't blame him. He knew his father was extremely stressed at the moment and more than a little preoccupied. "I want you to do something else for me though. I think Sam's a bit upset, his interview didn't go too well and he's walking back to the hotel. Will you and Gordon meet him and make sure he's okay for me?"

"Sure we will, Dad." John smiled. "We'll go now. How's Al?"

Jeff shrugged. "I'm not really sure John. Let me know Sam's alright will you?"

John nodded. "Okay, talk to you later." With a sharp nod from the other end, the call was terminated. As John turned to his auburn haired brother to inform him of their newfound plans for the afternoon, Jeff Tracy settled back in for a long wait.

It wasn't long before his mind got round to considering what had been unsettling him all day. Was he selfish enough to deprive the world of such a fantastic resource? The conclusion he soon came to was no, he wasn't. He would discuss the matter with his sons in time. It wasn't up to him to make decisions for them, they were grown men now and more than capable of doing so themselves. He would offer them the chance to join him and he'd be prepared for them to decide, either way.

No, it was no longer the future that preyed so heavily on his mind. It was the present.


	8. Interrogation

Authors Note: Thank you to those who have continued to review; it's much appreciated, as always. I really do value each and every one of them. I'd like very much to hear peoples comments on my work, so please do continue with the feedback.

Re posted due to spelling, punctuation and grammar changes!

Chapter Eight - Interrogation

"The interview will be recorded. Solely for the purpose of our own records." Ms Dews told Alan as she gestured to the seat on the opposite side of the table.

Alan glanced around the room. The walls were as drab as the corridor and there was a musky, stale smell in the air. He shifted awkwardly in the hard plastic seat and leant forward onto the table; which promptly rocked under the weight of his arms. He watched as Ms Dews methodically removed the suit jacket she wore and placed it on the back of one of the chairs, before sitting down. She pulled the chair close to the table causing a shrill scraping noise, and smiled falsely as she strummed her fingers impatiently.

Her gaze alone made Alan uncomfortable.

Another man entered the room in a rush. "Sorry." He apologised for his tardiness and took a seat without further comment.

"Very well, let's begin." Ms Dews reached forward and switched on the small recording device on the table. "This is a recorded informal interview with Mr Alan Shepherd Tracy, in investigation of the death of Mark Peter Jamison on the eighth of July 2023. The date today is the ninth of July 2023 and the time is …" She paused to glance at her very plain watch. "Fifteen hundred hours exactly. Those present are Caroline Dews, Senior Investigator. Dr Ryan Nickel, Crash Investigator and Alan Tracy, Competent Driver. Licence Number Tango Romeo Alpha Charlie Yankee 04122005, Car 33." She paused, opening the file she had previous placed in front of her, slowly for emphasis.

"Firstly, Mr Tracy, I'd just like you to clarify a few details for me. You are registered as competent to race motor vehicles contained in category E of the Highways Act Amended 2009. Is that correct?"

Alan nodded. "Yes." He squeaked, feeling more than a little intimidated. He cleared his throat determined not to appear anxious.

"And you were here at West Bridge Circuit to race a Ferrari GX10 Series in the Ferrari GX Class. Is that also correct?" Ms Dews asked.

"Yes." Alan replied curtly, sounding slightly more like himself.

"Can you talk us through the events of the eighth of July? In addition, how the vehicle registered to you and that you were driving came to collide with a blue vehicle of the same make and model. Causing serious injury and the subsequent death of Mr Jamison."

It took Alan a few moments to digest the question. "Well, we were out on the warm up for the race." Alan began. "As I came into the bend I changed down to fourth and then the engine started screaming. The car spun. I think we hit the barrier and then bounced back out. We were spinning slower than before and Virgil …"

"If I could stop you there." Ms Dews was saying. "Virgil is your brother, correct?"

"Yeah." Alan replied.

"And can you explain to us, why he was in the car in the first place?" She raised an eyebrow and Alan feel a tingling at the base of his spine. Something akin to dread.

"Err," He struggled. "Well, he helps Sam out with the car. With the err… With the mechanics. He wanted to listen to how the engine sounded and I was worried about my lap times. So he was helping me cut them down."

"I see and he couldn't have done that at any other time?" The question irritated Alan. He suddenly felt as though he should be proving his innocence. As if, he'd committed a crime by taking Virgil out with him.

"I forgot to put the recording disks in the cameras on the car. So when it came to analysing my performance in the qualifier, we had nothing. Virgil said he wanted hear how the engine held up under the pressure of that hairpin bend and I was grateful for the assistance with my lap times." He paused, his anger flaring slightly. "It was only the warm up lap and by race rules I could take a mechanic out with me." He added icily. "Virgil was part of the mechanical team." Alan became defensive, giving cause for an exchange of glances between his interviewers. "Just because he's my brother doesn't affect that fact."

"Quite correct." Ms Dews pointed out. "Section 4.12, amended 2018, I believe. So your older brother was in the car with you. Perhaps you could explain to us now how you escaped this fatal accident with…" She consulted her notes. "Bruised ribs and a badly bruised shoulder. Yet your older brother suffered…" Again, she glanced down. "Extensive and severe bruising to the ribs, shoulders and abdomen as well as the left wrist. He also, I believe, had to be taken to A and E after losing consciousness at the scene."

Alan nodded sadly, hearing the list of injuries just brought back his regret. "I looked down to the revs as we were spinning and they were in the red. Virg …Virgil knew that too and he told me to jump…"

"He told you to jump?" Ms Dews mulled the idea over. "So you, an experienced driver, did as your brother, a mere mechanic, at best, told you and jumped. Leaving him in your car as it spun out of control in the middle of the circuit?" She frowned, shaking her head incredulously and implying that Alan had been erroneous.

Alan shook his head. "No, no it wasn't like that!" He exclaimed, clearly becoming agitated and stressed. Taking a deep breath to control his fast growing irritation, he continued. "I thought Virgil was going to jump too." He continued, feeling the tension build at the base of his neck. "He was unfastening his seat restraint. I just assumed he'd follow."

"But he didn't?" The question came from Ms Dews again. A sarcastic element to her voice.

"No." Alan confirmed, letting out a haggard breath.

"Why is that?" Ms Dews asked.

Alan shrugged. "I don't know. I think probably the restraint locked and he couldn't get it off."

Ms Dews nodded sceptically. "You think the mechanism failed?" She raised an eyebrow. "Your safety records don't indicate you've had any problems before. However, am I correct in thinking that you were missing a team member this weekend?"

Alan nodded. "Yeah, Kenny Malone. He couldn't' make it, he was going to a friends wedding." He swallowed, unable to predict where many of Ms Dew's questions were coming from. He felt vulnerable; like the proverbial piece of meat about to be fed to the lions.

"I see." She flicked over the page of the file in front of her. "So, Sam Marshal assumed the role of chief mechanic. He hasn't held that kind of responsibility before, has he?"

Suddenly it hit Alan exactly what she was implying. "No, but Sam's perfectly competent."

"I didn't say he wasn't." Ms Dews lips curled into a smug grin.

"You insinuated he wasn't good enough. He's one of the best and there isn't a thing he doesn't know about that car." Alan frowned, his tone becoming harsh and angry. Of course, he realised he'd just fallen into her trap of demonstrating not only his temper, but also his 'guilty conscience'.

"Really. By that comment, are you insinuating he knew about the possibility of a fault on the car?" Ms Dews fired back quickly.

"Are you saying that there was a fault on the car?" Alan's voice rose. He calmed himself, once more. "I'm just saying that he's good." He said in a considerably less irate tone.

"Evidently not good enough." Ms Dews quipped. "Your shoulder injury was caused then by you impacting with the ground?" She moved on quickly, not giving Alan the chance to retaliate.

"Yeah. Jump and roll just like we practiced in training." Alan nodded, returning her icy glare.

"How long have you been racing these cars Mr Tracy?" Ms Dews took a deep breath. Alan glanced across to her counterpart who remained silent.

"Just under two years." He replied dutifully.

"That's correct, twenty one months to be exact." She sighed at his imprecision. "And how would you rate yourself as a driver?"

"I don't understand, what do you mean?" Alan frowned, not entirely sure how she was expecting him to answer that.

"I mean you're good. You have the trophies to prove it, and all in such a short space of time. You've got talent; no-one can deny that. Would you say that you are a confident driver Mr Tracy?" Ms Dews frowned, sitting back and expecting an answer.

"I guess so." Alan matched her frown, unsure where this was going. "You have to be fairly confident."

"Confident enough to be a little arrogant about your talents? A little reckless perhaps?" She suggested forcefully.

"No." Alan shook his head in denial. Desperately trying to keep his temper from flaring and letting his anger show. "It was an accident." He stated as calmly as he could.

Ms Dews nodded patronisingly. "We'll be the ones to decide that, Mr Tracy. How certain are you that you put the car in fourth gear? Is it possible that perhaps you thought you'd put the car in fourth gear when you'd actually selected second?"

"No. I put the car in fourth." Alan said adamantly. "I told you, it was an accident."

"Okay and one last question, Mr Tracy. Is it true that when James Matterson was disqualified through an earlier accident, your exact words were 'I guess that's one less for me to worry about'? Was Mark Jamison one less for you to worry about too Mr Tracy?"

"No!" Alan denied vehemently "No! I was joking, I wasn't being serious. Jim's a good friend of mine."

"But Mark Jamison wasn't?"

"We'd had our differences." Alan suddenly felt panicked; allowing her to get the better of him.

"Differences! It was quite a power struggle by all accounts." Ms Dews noted. "A power struggle that you were evidently losing this season."

"No!" Alan sighed, feeling himself become more frustrated and the anger building once more. "That's not true."

"But you'd agree there was some degree of rivalry there?" Ms Dews noted with a certain amount of contempt.

"There's rivalry between all of us, it doesn't mean a damned thing!" Alan exploded angrily at her.

"Do you know what I think Mr Tracy? I think Mr Jamison was close to your car. I think he was trying to pressure you, intimidate you by remaining close to your car, and you weren't about to let that happen. We've seen today how easily your tempers ignited, I think you reacted. Only perhaps your reaction to stop Mr Jamison from embarrassing you has had further consequences to those you had anticipated."

Alan forced every muscle in his body into a tense spasm, at her groundless insinuations. "Intimidation is a tactic; it doesn't mean we have to retaliate to it. It was just a warm up lap. It's not as if we were even racing. We'd already qualified so we would have just gone back to the grid exactly as we were before."

"So you were trying to get in his way? Going too slowly perhaps, to antagonise him? Having a good laugh because he wasn't able to overtake you? You were in front of your greatest rival for the first time this season and he was powerless to get passed you." She gained momentum with each suggestion, becoming louder and more forceful. "That must have been a buzz for you, especially with your brother there to witness it all."

"No!" Alan denied. "One of the reasons Virgil came was to help me get more speed out of the car! It's a race! Why the hell would I go slowly?"

"Perhaps you wanted to draw your triumph out. Make the most of the moment, especially in front of your brother." Ms Dews raised a suggestive eyebrow.

"Virgil's my responsibility when he's in my car." The words echoed in Alan's head and he swallowed back his remorse before he continued. "Do you seriously think I'm going to consciously put him in danger? He could have been killed in this accident, so could I." He fumed.

"But you weren't, Mark Jamison was." Ms Dews finished. "Dr Nickel has a few technical questions. I believe you would be of assistance to him if you could answer them."

Alan nodded wearily. Not ignorant of the fact that she had stressed the balding man's qualification, almost menacingly.

"Mr Tracy." Dr Nickel began, in an accent that he would later find not dissimilar to Parker's. "Alan isn't it? Do you mind if I call you Alan?"

Alan shook his head. He didn't mind at all, as far as he was concerned Mr Tracy was his father and it sounded quite odd. He took an instant like to Dr Nickel's far more relaxed methods of questioning. However, just Ms Dew's menacing presence meant he couldn't settle down, and he remained on edge. He couldn't help but feel anxious at what Ms Dews had discussed with him. Or the way her framed questions intensified his feelings of worthlessness and guilt.

He refocused on what the doctor was saying.

"We're currently going over both the cars for any faults or defects. You were clear of your car when Mark actually impacted it, that's correct?"

"Yeah, I'd jumped by then but Virgil was still in there." Alan paused. "If I'd been in the car when he hit it, I would've been killed."

Dr Nickel nodded. "Without a doubt, it was a nasty smash. Can you tell me what happened after you hit the ground?"

The question came with such a gentle tone, calm and tender. The man reminded him of Virgil.

"I looked up." Alan began shakily. "I could see Mark's car, there was just no time for him to react. I remember looking around for Virgil, then I started to run towards the car when I realised he hadn't gotten out. By then there were stewards there and they pulled me back."

"When you say Mark had no time to react, why was that?" Dr Nickel asked. Frowning as he idly played with the pen in his hand.

"He'd been travelling close to me all the way round. He backed off a bit for those bends but there was no way he could have come round that corner. Not at that speed, and reacted in time to do anything other than crash straight into the car." Alan explained, licking his lips and swallowing, suddenly realising how dry he felt.

"As an experienced racer, do you think he was travelling too close to you?" Dr Nickel asked, sitting back.

"For a warm up lap, yes. But I know what he was trying to do," Alan sighed. "He was trying to intimidate me, make me feel nervous before the race had even started."

"He had a habit of doing this? Intimidating people?" Dr Nickel asked.

Alan hesitated, realising what Dr Nickel was implying. "He was a good driver, more than competent and more experienced than me."

"Is that a yes?" Dr Nickel pressed.

Alan nodded and suddenly Ms Dew's crisp accent interrupted the relaxed atmosphere. Reminding Alan, she was still there, just when he was beginning to relax a little. "For the benefit of the tape, Mr Tracy is nodding."

"You've had a lot of problems with the car this season. The GX10…" Dr Nickel raised his hands behind his head, shaking in admiration. "I have to admit, that was a superb car." The older man enthused. "Tell me about the technical problems."

Alan smiled at the balding man's enthusiasm. "Well, I've had continual problems with the transmission…err, gears, that's been the main thing. Then the starter motor went last month. Ferrari US took it in and did a complete rebuilt on the transmission and starter systems. I've only just got it back."

"I'm presuming it ran okay for the qualifier though? Your chief mechanic, Sam Marshal, he didn't report anything suspicious. No technical problems?" Dr Nickel enquired.

"Well no," Alan said conversationally. "But I'm no mechanic. You'd be better off asking Sam or Virgil that question. As far as I was aware, there weren't any faults on the car. I didn't experience any problems during the qualifier, but I only have a basic knowledge. Sam's the expert." He added icily, glaring at Ms Dews.

"I see," Dr Nickel nodded. "Sometimes, these kinds of things do tend to occur rather suddenly don't they?" The question was clearly rhetoric. "How did you react to the spin?"

Alan shook his head. "Err..." He hesitated. "I saw the revs go sky high and my first thought was the gears so I looked down to check it was in fourth in the gate."

"Was it?" Dr Nickel enquired.

Fatally, Alan hesitated. "It all happened so fast." He shook his head. "I thought it was." He watched Ms Dew's furiously writing an important note and realised he'd told her earlier he'd been sure. He cursed himself.

"Well, we're running some tests on the gearbox, so don't worry we'll soon find out. It's easy to doubt yourself in situations like this." Dr Nickel seemed to understand how he was feeling and was a lot more sympathetic to him then Ms Dews had been. "So what did you do?"

"As soon as I felt the back end go I started counter steering, but it was no use. We were just going too fast. We weren't changing position and I couldn't keep the nose in front of the tail." Alan brought his hands up to the table, entwining his fingers together. The regret and remorse weighed heavy in his tone and he came to a stop.

"It's a front wheel drive, isn't it?" The question was rhetoric and Dr Nickel nodded as he glanced down at his notes to confirm the fact. "So, you were beginning to spin at this point. Did you gas it out?" Dr Nickel's prompted him after a long silence and an askew glance at his colleague.

"Err… No." Alan shook his head. "The revs were so high; I didn't think it would be the best way to deal with it. I hit the circuit breaker and cut the power to the engine." He opened his mouth to continue but Dr Nickel interrupted him.

"Whilst we're on the subject of the circuit breaker. You hit it straight away?" He queried.

Alan nodded. "Yeah, as soon as we started spinning and I'd recovered from the gravity pull."

"It's just that when the emergency teams reached your car, they found both the exterior and interior cameras were still working." As Alan was nodding, eager to clarify, he stopped and waited for an explanation.

"The cameras run off the car battery but they also have a reserve power supply. That kicks in when the battery's cut, that's probably why they were still running."

Dr Nickel was nodding. "I see. I've only completed my preliminary report on the car so far. There are a few things I'm yet to reach, I'm afraid the camera system wasn't on my list of priorities. Anyway, carry on. You cut the power to the engine, then what?"

"If you spin, both feet in." Alan replied automatically.

Dr Nickel laughed, shaking his head. "That's an old one."

Alan nodded, bowing his head. "Yeah, well that was the plan, but the revs were too high." He shook his head in disbelief. "I cut the power. As soon as we were slow enough for the tyres to gain some traction, then I was going to lock the brakes on." Alan swallowed, the memories replaying themselves without command. "The engine was still racing, it wasn't dying fast enough and the revs weren't dropping. Virgil was shouting at me, telling me I should jump, so I did. I thought Virgil'd follow." Alan said sadly.

"So, you locked the brakes on?" Dr Nickel continued.

Alan shook his head. "No, we never slowed down enough for it to have any effect. Whilst we were spinning there was no traction whatsoever, so touching anything could have been fatal. I did what I thought was the safest thing and let it spin out. We hit the barrier, that took a lot of the impact and we slowed down." He bit his top lip in thought. "Do you think I could have recovered from the spin?"

"We'll be asking the questions Mr Tracy." Ms Dews pointed out sternly.

Dr Nickel seemed to ignore her. "To be honest Alan, I'd have probably done the same thing myself. Without the traction, braking wouldn't have had any effect and once you were spinning, flooring it just would have caused a fuel rush, which could have been even more dangerous. Not to mention the fact that the revs were so high. A fuel rush to the engine could, as you say, have been fatal."

"That's what I thought." Alan nodded, reassured by the response.

"Did you really have the time to go through that thought process? I imagine it was chaotic." Dr Nickel enquired, intrigued as much anything.

"It was, but believe me. With my brother sat in the seat beside me, his life dependant on the decision I was about to make. I thought pretty quickly." Alan confided softly.

Dr Nickel nodded in understanding. "When was the last time the safety restraint was checked?" He asked.

"I check mine every time I get in the car, but the passenger one is rarely used. I'd have to check the log." Alan replied.

"Well, I don't have any further questions at the minute but I may need to speak to you again. If you leave a contact number on your way out, that'd be helpful. Thank you for you time Alan." He turned to his colleague. "Any further questions Ms Dews?"

"Not at the minute." She stood up and closed the file, Dr Nickel followed suit. "We'll be in touch Mr Tracy." Alan nodded as she turned away as Dr Nickel held out his hand.

"Interview concluded at sixteen hours fifty two." She switched the recorder off. "I believe your father's waiting outside."

Alan nodded, getting to his feet and hastily exiting the confined space. He had to wonder just how this was going to turn out and the interview process did nothing to diminish his fears.

XxxxX

"Thank you." Scott closed the door softly, tray in hand and headed back into the room. With a heavy sigh, he placed it on the bedside table, perching on the bed where his brother slept.

For a few seconds he could do nothing other than watch. A part of him was concerned at just how long his brother had slept.

"Virgil?" He tried to rouse him. "Virg?" He reached out a hand to the younger man's shoulder but hesitated. Like John, he was reminded of the terrible bruising there and forced himself to grasp Virgil's arm instead. "Wake up."

Virgil murmured, but refused to open his eyes or break contact with the pain free existence he found himself in. "Come on Virg, wake up." He couldn't, however, ignore Scott's constant calling.

Eventually he mumbled, trying to move but afraid to cause himself more pain. "Go away Scott." He grumbled. "Just want to sleep."

"Look at me." Scott's tone was not one to mess with and Virgil begrudgingly prized his eyes open. Scott smiled down at him, bemused. "How are you feeling?"

Virgil swallowed, trying to rid himself of the dry, bitter taste that had accumulated in his mouth. "Tired." He said, half closing his eyes.

"How's the pain?" It hadn't escaped Scott's notice just how much pain his brother was in. He was determined not to ignore it as easily as Virgil seemed to want to. Hence, the food and the bottle of painkillers that sat on the tray beside him.

"If I don't move or breathe then it's fine." He smiled, but Scott just frowned. Not at all impressed by the falsified humour. It would seem Virgil and Gordon really had been spending too much time together recently.

"Why didn't you tell me it was that bad?" Scott felt the annoyance rear up inside of him again, but it was quickly replaced by confusion and frustration at Virgil's behaviour.

"It wasn't earlier." Virgil grimaced. "It's getting worse." He watched the worry smeared across Scott's face intensify, just as he'd expected. "It's my own fault; I should've taken the pills. I pushed myself too hard going out this morning, I was angry."

"Maybe we should get a doctor to look at you." Scott knew the suggestion would be met with hostility, but voiced his thoughts anyway.

Virgil began to shake his head vigorously. "No, I don't need to see a doctor Scott." He paused, feeling far too exhausted to have to explain anything. Sighing as deeply as he could manage without causing excruciating pain, he allowed his eyes to roll slightly as he blinked. "I'm fine; it's nothing a couple of hours sleep won't cure. I just pushed myself too hard."

"Hmm." Scott obviously wasn't of the same opinion. "Well, you missed breakfast and lunch. It's nearly six o'clock now."

Virgil was surprised at this. "Six o'clock? I've been asleep that long?"

Scott nodded. "You obviously needed it. Why don't you try and eat something and take a few of these painkillers." He suggested as he gestured to the silver tray he'd placed on the bedside table. Virgil followed his gaze. "There's some ibuprofen as well." Scott said conversationally.

Virgil raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "What is it?"

"Bread and soup." Scott saw his face fall and quickly added. "But you can have whatever you want." He urged.

"It's not that." Virgil frowned. "It's just…" He trailed off, before bowing his head and trying again. "I was sick this morning." He didn't dare look up for the look of irritation he knew would be dominating Scott's features. "I don't know if I'd be able to keep it down. And it hurt like hell Scott, still does. I don't think I want to risk having to go through that again." He paused. "Maybe I'll just leave it a while."

Scott shook his head. His emotions torn between sympathy at just how painful it must've been, and irritation at the fact Virgil didn't tell him.

"You have to eat Virg." He pointed out, allowing the sympathy to win for now. He was prepared to pile the irritation up with the simmering anger and the helplessness he'd pushed to the back of his mind. Waiting for an appropriate time to voice them. "You haven't eaten since yesterday, when you and Sam were working on the car. Maybe that's why you were sick this morning; maybe you just need something to settle your stomach." Scott suggested. "Aren't you hungry?"

Finally able to stop himself shrugging as a reflex, Virgil just pulled a passive face. "A little, but I'm not sure this is such a good idea."

"Why don't you try some? Just a little bit." Scott coaxed. "You really do need to eat something Virgil. It'll give you some energy and then you can take some pills." Virgil had always had a healthy appetite for as long as Scott could remember. Trying to coax him into eating just a small amount seemed surreal to the elder brother. Even when he was sick, Virgil wouldn't want to miss out on his food. "Its chicken soup, your favourite." Scott smiled encouragingly. "Do you want me to go and get Dad to cut it up into little soldiers for you?"

Virgil smiled; he tried to stop himself laughing but the effort only caused him pain. When they were children, they both used to insist on cutting their bread into soldiers. Something that their father had become very talented at over the years.

"I think I'm a bit big for that now." Virgil smirked.

"Come on, sit up. Just try a little bit. You don't have to eat it all." Scott could see he seemed to be making a breakthrough and continued convincingly.

Begrudgingly Virgil tried to push himself up. However, his weak wrist failed him and he cursed as an excruciating pain ripped through his body, settling in his chest. He felt Scott's hands on the top of his arms before he realised his brother had even moved. "Take it easy." Scott was saying gently, puffing up the pillows behind his brother before manoeuvring him back against them.

Virgil sat back breathlessly. "I'm okay." He pushed Scott's hands away and then regretted it. "Thanks." He added remorsefully as he allowed his eyes to close. Remarkably, the pain seemed to lessen when he was still. It hurt to breathe but apart from that, it was only unbearably painful when he moved.

"You really need to take some of these pills, hopefully they'll help." Scott muttered as he placed the tray in Virgil lap, removing the heatproof cover as he did.

In all honesty, Virgil couldn't deny that he was a little hungry and all the talk of food was making him more so. However, the violent sickness he'd experienced in the morning was painful enough to make him seriously consider if he would benefit from this. If it meant avoiding that discomfort, he would fast for weeks on end, regardless of hunger.

As the smell of the soup filled his nostrils, his stomach lurched. Virgil swallowed trying to dispel the sickness in the back of his throat. Scott watched him with trepidation.

Eventually Virgil raised the smallest piece of bread to his lips but hesitated. "Aren't you having anything?"

Scott shook his head. "No, Dad and Alan are due back. I'm going to go make sure Al's okay and see what they're doing first. I spoke to Sam too; I think he's a feeling a bit down. These interviews are pretty hard going."

Virgil repeated raising the bread, hesitating once more. "You know, you don't have to sit and watch me Scott."

"Eat the bread." It was an order, and Virgil knew it.

Scott got up and made his way to the kitchenette. Pouring a glass of water before emptying out two of the painkillers and setting them down on the side of the tray. He looked up to see his brother was chewing the bread slowly and then swallowing. Quickly blowing out a short breath afterwards.

"I can't, Scott." Scott looked down at the tray. The soup remained untouched but only half a bread roll remained as opposed to the two that had been served. "I feel sick."

"You can't starve yourself Virg. Try some of the soup." Scott could see in Virgil's eyes he'd had enough, but pushed anyway, knowing his brother needed to keep his strength up. "Maybe we should call Dr Williams at the hospital. He said if you weren't feeling better within twenty four hours to call him back." Scott bowed his head, ashamed to resort to blackmail.

"That's a dirty trick Scott." Virgil remarked. A degree of admiration to his tone yet at the same time that comment brimmed with irritation. "Just give me those pills and then I can go back to sleep." Virgil was internally pleading for his brother to agree, but deep down he already knew he wouldn't.

"You've been asleep for seven hours!" Scott exclaimed. "Look, just try a little bit of the soup and then you can take the pills and rest."

Virgil knew his brother was bartering with him. Trying to treat him as he would a child but for now Virgil was too tired to rebel. He reminded himself of Scott's issues with control. Silently he raised the spoon to the bowl while Scott was trying to logically explain his exhaustion.

"Maybe it's the after effects of the sedative that's making you so tired. Dr Williams said you'd be lethargic. Still, I don't think you should be feeling like this." He paused, watching Virgil stir the soup and cautiously sip at it. "I was being serious when I said we should call him." Virgil's icy glare told him that his brother's opinion differed somewhat. "Virg, I don't think you should be in this much pain. I'll bet the lack of food and your marathon run this morning won't have helped."

Virgil looked up, that was a not so subtle reminder for him that Scott hadn't forgotten about the incident. It obviously still remained on the 'to discuss' list. Virgil winced inwardly, that list was becoming a book, a book he wasn't overly keen to open now. Bowing his head, he concentrated on the soup and making it to his mouth without gagging. Refusing to reiterate his views about the doctor.

Successfully swallowing three complete mouthfuls, he lagged back against the pillows once more. "I really can't eat anymore Scott. I'm just not hungry."

Scott seemed to accept he'd done his best. "You'll feel better for it." He promised, confidently. Virgil wasn't so sure but didn't comment. Scott moved the tray out of the way and handed over the painkillers followed by a glass of water. "You really still feel tired?" He asked anxiously.

Virgil nodded, swallowing the pills and hoping they would have some effect. "I guess you're right, it must be that sedative still in my system. That and my 'marathon' run." He added sarcastically as he blinked heavily. "I can't believe I slept for so long."

For a few moments, silence enveloped them both.

A silence Virgil knew he should really be talking through yet somehow he couldn't find the words. Sorry seemed so inadequate but in the absence of anything better he didn't have much choice.

"Scott, about this morning. I didn't mean to snap at you or worry you." He began cautiously. When it came to Scott, he could read his brother as easily as a book. He knew perfectly well that as much as he needed Scott to accept his apology, Scott needed to let his frustrations out first.

"You didn't think I'd worry if you disappeared for three hours?" Virgil was secretly pleased at the angry undercurrent to Scott's tone. The thought had crossed his mind, that his brother would let the concern he knew he would be feeling consume him.

"It was more like two and a half." Virgil smiled. "It took longer than I thought; I just wanted some time on my own to get my head straight."

"And is it straight now?" Scott perched back on the bed. His eyes remained a barely concealed mix of concern and irritation.

"A bit." Virgil could see this was a bigger task than he'd anticipated. "I'm sorry, really I am. I know you must've been concerned…"

"Concerned!" Scott exclaimed, cutting him off with a sarcastic shake of the head. "Virgil you were in a serious accident yesterday, in which a guy died. You could barely dress yourself at the hospital; you could hardly stand, let alone walk without someone helping you. Yet this morning you manage to get up, shower and change, and then decide to go for a three hour walk! I was worried sick." Scott shook his head, taking the few seconds to reflect. "Y'know, we could have lost you yesterday." Virgil studied his glassy eyes, realising it wasn't the first time Scott had had that thought. "Just think about that."

"I know." He said softly. "I know; I was lucky." Virgil considered his wording carefully. "Do you think a single second's gone by where I haven't thought about it?" He licked his lips, feeling suddenly dry. "I know I've been acting like a complete idiot since yesterday. I'm sorry about last night and this morning, but I just wanted some space." He paused. "I needed some space, please try to understand that Scott."

Scott sighed regretfully. "You want air; you go out onto the balcony." He gestured to the curtain covered double doors. "You want space, you tell me to get lost." He shook his head again despairingly. "But don't ever do that again. Because if you do, and I don't kill myself worrying, I'll sure as hell kill you." A smile lurked ominously beneath the concern induced threats, but he refused to let it show.

"I won't be doing it again." Virgil promised. "Believe me; every single muscle in my chest is on fire because I took that walk. The pain just got worse with every step; I've learned my lesson. The hard way." Virgil paused.

Scott couldn't bring himself to say 'good' when it was so obvious how much pain his brother was in. He did want to make clear one thing though before he would encourage Virgil to go back to sleep.

"Virg, whatever your reasoning is for not letting people help, and whatever it is that you need all this time and space to deal with." Scott took a deep breath, catching his brother's eye and holding his gaze. "Sooner or later, we… you, you're going to have to talk about this." He said solemnly, ensuring Virgil understood his insistence.

Slowly and unsurely, Virgil looked to the bed between them before nodding slightly. "I know." He agreed. "I know, just not yet." When his gaze met Scott's again, his eyes were glazed over with accrued moisture. "Please Scott, not yet."

Scott frowned at the glassy eyes coupled with the emotional plea. It was most definitely uncharacteristic of his brother. Only deepening his concern and convincing him that this talk should be happening sooner rather than later. For the moment though, he understood Virgil's distress and he just nodded.

"You should try and get some sleep." He said softly, a smile to match his tone accompanied the words. "Come on, I think maybe we should get you into your own bed." He took the glass out of Virgil's hands and placed it on the bedside table. "I'll help you."

Virgil swallowed. Sam's bed being nearest to the door had been the one he'd crashed on, subsequently falling asleep. Now, as he glanced across to his own bed, it seemed miles away. He really didn't want to have to move but he knew he couldn't sleep in his clothes and began to sit forward. Accepting the fact that since he had to change out of his clothes, he might as well get in his own bed too. Before he really realised what was happening, Scott had his hands on the tops of his arms, guiding him into a sitting position.

"It's okay Scott, I'm not helpless. I can do it." He tried to shrug his older brother's hands off but only succeeding in causing his ribs to protest painfully at any such movement. Forcing him to allow a small groan to escape his lips.

"Yeah, it sounds like it." Scott scoffed as he sat down alongside his brother. "I'm trying to help, let me."

"I'm not an invalid." Virgil said gently, desperately trying not to snap. Not really succeeding.

"I know that, but you don't have to pretend that you're okay." Scott frowned, hoping to resolve this issue Virgil seemed to have developed with accepting help. "Hell if I had those bruises Virg, I wouldn't be able to stand, let alone do anything else."

"You'd try." Virgil pointed out stubbornly.

"You're not me though." Scott frowned, surprised that Virgil would be thinking along that track at all.

"Maybe we're not that different." Virgil surmised with a semi-shrug. He'd had a sinking feeling that this conversation was heading his way.

"Virgil, there's nothing wrong with accepting that you're going to need help." Scott watched his brother's response carefully for any clue as to how he was going to react to the suggestion. "I'm not going to just stand by and let you hurt yourself even more for the sake of your pride." He paused. "It's not necessary. If you're finding things difficult, why don't you ask for help?"

"Don't you think I'm a bit big to have my brother buttoning my shirt and tying my shoelaces?" Virgil shook his head in despair. The things he truly needed help with he felt he couldn't ask of Scott but in doing them for himself, he only increased his pain.

"Normally, I'd say yes without hesitation. But you need to accept the fact that this isn't a normal situation, you're hurt. Give yourself a break, stop being so damned stubborn and just ask." Scott reasoned.

"It's embarrassing." Virgil grumbled, looking away.

"No, what's embarrassing is saying that you don't need help and then realising that you do. For the sake of all that pain, isn't it worth just swallowing your pride?" Scott raised an eyebrow, awaiting an answer.

Slowly Virgil nodded. "I guess you're right. It's just …I don't need someone babysitting me twenty four hours a day."

"We're not talking about someone Virg," Scott defended himself. "Or twenty four hours a day, either. This is me, you've been my best friend my whole life; there's nothing you don't know about me. I just don't want you to be ashamed to acknowledge that you need help, especially from me." Scott shook his head. "This morning, in the shower." He ventured slowly. "What happened?"

"Huh?" Virgil could feel the pain medication starting to sink in and intended to make the most of the much-needed relief.

"I heard you." Scott told him. "It sounded as though you were torturing yourself."

"I'm not going to pretend it wasn't difficult but I got there in the end." Virgil said, frowning and not meeting his brother's gaze.

"Not before inflicting a hell of a lot of pain on yourself though. You don't have to do that, Virgil. I hate this, I hate feeling so useless. Standing by, doing nothing." Scott tried to turn it around so as it seemed Virgil was doing him a favour. The younger man looked up suspiciously; he knew very well what Scott was doing but nodded anyway.

"Okay." He conceded finally. "I'll accept help graciously, but only when I need it." He sighed. "I don't need fussing over Scott. It's a few bruises, that's all." He paused. "I don't need someone watching over me all the time and I certainly don't need all this …" He struggled for the right word, without meaning to sound ungrateful. "Concern. It's uncomfortable."

"It's only because people care, we're worried about you." Scott bowed his head, before smiling a nod anyway, pleased with the outcome. "There's nothing to be embarrassed or uncomfortable about." He reassured his brother. "We all have to accept help sometimes."

"I'll remind you of that one day." Virgil promised, raising his eyebrows.

"Come on." Scott held him by the fore arms and guided him until he was stood on his feet. "Let's get you into bed." Virgil looked up suspiciously.

Maintaining his own weight, he firmly removed Scott's grip and walked somewhat cautiously over to his own bed. "I said only when I need it. I told you, I'm not an invalid." He complained.

Slowly, one hand clutching his injured chest, he sat down on the bed with a groan. "You alright?" Scott regretted the question immediately. Virgil stared at him clearly irritated, before smirking as if to prove his point. "Sorry." Scott lowered his gaze, chastising himself. "Come on, get undressed." He said eventually.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "Being around all those men in uniform having an effect on you Scotty?" He smirked.

"Funny." Scott laughed falsely. "Do it." Another order.

Scott was secretly pleased at the comment; it was certainly a contrast to Virgil's recent dark mood. However, he wondered how long this would last.

With another smirk Virgil began to unbutton his shirt, albeit slowly. The euphoria of the pain medication was starting to sink in and he blinked furiously to dispel it as best as he could. Scott watched him as he pulled back the sheets and the bedcovers, and plumped up the cushions. Waiting for an indication that he should take over and that Virgil had satisfied his dignity by, at least, trying.

Virgil had half the shirt unbuttoned and was blinking heavily. Unsuccessfully dispersing the mind numbing effects of the pain relief he desperately needed coupled with just how tired he was. Suddenly, Scott's hands enveloped his and pulled them away, gently taking over where he was failing. Before long, Virgil had slipped between the folded back sheets and was already closing his eyes.

Scott smiled to himself at his brother's lack of energy. He was more than concerned about the amount of time Virgil had slept during the day and fully intended on mentioning it to his father. For now though, he watched Virgil's bandaged wrist reach out for the folded covers. His brother's eyes remained closed and his movement seemed weary, as if he didn't really have the energy.

"It's alright." Scott said softly, reaching out for the covers himself. "I've got it." He went to pull the quilted material up over his brother's chest when he caught sight of the mottled blues. The vast array of colouring on Virgil's chest looked suspiciously like the colour pallet his brother used for painting. "Virg, these look worse then they did yesterday." He commented.

"Hmm." Virgil nodded. "Dr Williams said the bruising would continue to come out for weeks." He smirked coldly. "This is just the beginning." He muttered glumly.

Scott frowned; he didn't remember the doctor saying that. He wondered what else he'd told Virgil when he hadn't been in the room. "Do you want me to get you some ice? It might take the swelling down a bit."

Virgil opened his eyes and looked up to his brother smiling. "Yeah, ice. Now you mention it…" He said surprising himself. "I think the doctor may have said something about putting ice on it. I can't remember though."

Scott walked across to the mini bar. "Did the doctor tell you anything else when I wasn't there?" He frowned, concerned at this development. "Think carefully, anything important?"

Virgil frowned too, shifting uncomfortably on the mattress. "I don't think so; everything goes a bit blurry after he gave me that sedative."

Scott nodded, returning with two make shift bags full of ice. "You think they'll charge us for the ice, if we don't drink the champagne?" He smirked, trying not to show his concern.

"Probably." Virgil smirked in return.

"Okay, this might be a bit cold." Scott took one of the make shift ice bags and began to place it one side of his brothers rib cage.

"You don't sa…" Virgil didn't finish as the ice hit his chest and he automatically drew in a deep breath. "Argh!" He groaned as his ribs refused to expand as easily as his lungs.

"Sorry." Scott winced. Virgil panted to get his breathing under control. "I did warn you."

Virgil grimaced. "Just put the other one on." He gritted his teeth.

Scott complied and took a towel from the bathroom, wrapping it over the two ice parcels and holding them in place. "How's that?" He asked as he sat back, his work done.

"Cold." Virgil breathed in slowly through clenched teeth. "But better." He exhaled, his eyes remaining closed.

"Good." Scott sighed. "Can I do anything else?" Virgil cracked an eye open to look at his brother, a carbon copy of the pointed look he'd given him before. "Sorry." Scott shook his head. "I can't help it, you're still my little brother and I'm worried about you."

"You've never bunched me in with the kids before." Virgil frowned. "Normally during your little pep talks I'm 'your equal'." Virgil smirked to himself as he lowered his voice, impersonating his brother. He settled into the mattress, not bothering to open his eyes as he spoke.

"Well, yeah. You are my equal." Scott agreed. "But you are my little brother too." He hesitated. "You're always so …strong, not just for yourself but for me too. I rely on you. I guess, sometimes you don't act like a little brother, so it's hard to treat you like one. You're more than that and you know it." He paused for a few seconds, watching the tranquillity form on his brother's features. "You know, you make me nervous when you're like this. Sick." His honest tone ceased as he truly processed his brother's words.

"Hold on a minute, pep talk? What pep talks? And I don't talk like that! …. Do I?" He glanced up to see his brother's eyes remained closed. "Virg?" He stood, peering over the younger man. Smiling askance at Virgil's shallow but even breathing.

Eventually, he took a hold of the quilted covers. Pulling them up to cover the towel and ice packs, he sighed heavily as he ran his fingers over Virgil's hair. Taking his place and perching on his own bed. He settled in to watch his brother sleep, until the inevitable call from their father. "Pep talks!" He muttered to himself, grumbling. "And I don't talk like that!"


	9. Evasion

Authors Note: Thank you to those people who have reviewed the last chapter. I think you all know how much I value them by now. Every comment I receive is greatly appreciated.

If anyone has experienced problems accessing Consequences, could they please let me know? (Kimmytosh1_at_aol . com _ no gaps_). Thanks

Chapter Nine – Evasion

Jeff pulled the car into a waiting queue at the hotels doors. True to Gordon's prediction, the rain was pounding against the windscreen and the blades swiped intermittently at the running water. Glancing across at the fair-haired young man sat beside him, who had spent the duration of the journey staring out of the window. Jeff sighed. "You alright Son?"

Alan nodded. "Yeah." Came the soft reply. Jeff frowned further as the cars moved ever so slowly closer to the door. The long stream of brake lights blurred by the rain and accentuated by the dark of the night.

"You've hardly said a word." Jeff commented, the barely audible purr from the car engines not hindering the one sided conversation in the least.

Alan shrugged. The medication he had taken was starting to wear off and he found the movement pulled against the injured muscles in his shoulders. "Just thinking." He said quietly.

"What about?" Jeff asked, obediently moving along as the traffic crawled. Another shrug was his only reply. "Son?" Jeff prompted. "What are you thinking about?"

Alan turned to face him, watching him as if he was weighing up what his answer would. His eyes moved slightly from side to side and suddenly he seemed to come to a decision. "I'm thinking maybe you should get a chauffer." He said eventually.

Jeff knew it was a cover but continued anyway. "Are you saying you don't appreciate my driving skills son?" He smiled, amused by the thought.

"I just think with all your money, you could afford one. It's not like you're doing anything else with it." Alan commented.

Jeff turned to him, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips. "Believe me Alan; I have plans for that money. You're not seriously trying to tell me that, if you were in my position, you could sit in the backseat of a car whilst someone else drove you?" The smirk grew. "I know it's been difficult enough for you to sit in the passenger seat today."

Alan frowned. "Well, no but that's different." He protested.

"Why? I enjoy driving myself, it keeps me sharp and I like the open road, the power." Jeff smiled again. However, he had a feeling that his constant cheeriness for Alan's sake was of no real benefit to either of them.

"If you had a driver, you could work during the journey. It's not just about being practical either, there's a certain prestige attached to it too." Alan furthered his argument. Pleased that not only was it a welcome distraction but his father seemed to be playing along.

Jeff frowned intrigued. "Since when has this family ever been impressed by prestige? Next, you'll be suggesting I get a pilot to fly me." He laughed at the preposterousness of the suggestion. "Why do I need to employ a dog, when I can not only bark myself but actually quite enjoy doing it?" Alan shrugged again, not really interested in the conversation anyway. "Besides, I've got a full entourage with you five. If need be, Scott can fly me, you can drive me, John can read my star signs, Virgil can play anything I request for relaxation purposes and Gordon can..." He trailed off as he laughed uncomfortably at the absurdity of the comment. He was under the impression that it would humour Alan but a glance his way told him he was far from amused. In fact, he'd gone back to staring desolately out the window at the rain again.

"What is it son?" Jeff asked softly.

Alan's only response was a brief wave of his hand. "I think that guys trying to get your attention."

Jeff turned to the object of his indistinct wave. A dark haired man, carrying an extremely large umbrella was walking towards the car. His dark navy suit appeared wet at the bottom, where the canopy neither of the hotel or the large umbrella could protect him from the rain.

Jeff allowed the electric window to roll down fractionally.

"Ah, Good Evening Mr Tracy." The rich English tones purred as the umbrella wielding man glanced across to Alan.

"Good Evening." Jeff replied. "I'll take the car into the parking lot myself, thank you."

The young man looked nervously at Jeff before glancing back to the dwindling number of reporters around the front door.

"Very well Mr Tracy. May I suggest the West Parking Bays?" He gestured to the car in front. The occupants abandoning it in favour for the sheltered cover of another large umbrella. "If you would follow my colleague there. At the point, he turns to the left, if you would turn to the right. Follow that road down to the bottom and you'll find yourself in the West Parking Bays. You should be able to make you're exit via a staircase to the left of the bays which will bring you up to reception." The young man smiled, stepping back and Jeff nodded his thanks as he pulled away.

As they emerged through the reception doors, Jeff found his gaze wandering towards his son again and not for the first time since leaving the car either. As they stepped into one of the carriages waiting to take them up to their rooms, Jeff broke the silence. "I couldn't get hold of Scott this afternoon. I think I'll pop up and check everything's okay. Are you going to come too?"

Alan seemed unsure. "Yeah." He said eventually. "Sure."

"Good." Jeff smiled. "I'm sure your brothers will be pleased to see you."

Jeff couldn't help but think Alan seemed apprehensive. As he knocked on the hotel door his eldest sons shared with Sam, he watched Alan's behaviour with interest. Silently racking his brains anxiously to think of an explanation. Alan had already spoken to Virgil, so he couldn't be nervous of seeing him and Scott had practically put him to bed last night. He shook his head at a loss, when the door opened to reveal Scott.

"Hey." He smiled, opening the door wider for them. "Come in. Be quiet though, Virg is asleep."

"Still?" Jeff asked anxiously as he followed Scott back to his position, perching on the bed alongside his sleeping brother. Jeff plopped down softly alongside him with a sigh and glanced across to where Alan lingered at the foot of the bed they sat on.

"I know." Scott was saying. "He's been asleep more or less all day. He's exhausted."

Jeff nodded but frowned not wanting to move his gaze from where Virgil slept obliviously. "He was in a lot of pain last night, how is he now?"

Scott shrugged. "He managed to eat something a couple of hours ago so he took some pain killers. I think they did some good, but I'm worried about how much he's sleeping and the bruises have got worse…" Scott was cut off mid flow.

"I'm going to go down and see Gordon." Alan said as he turned and walked away, unable to watch his second eldest brother's pale form sleep, any longer.

"What was all that about?" Scott frowned at the sudden exit.

Jeff just shrugged. "I don't know Son. That interview today's certainly shaken him up; I know Sam wasn't happy either, but Alan wouldn't talk to me about it at all. I tried but we ended up having an interesting conversation about the pros and cons of getting a chauffer instead." He frowned, not really sure how they'd come to be having that conversation.

"You?" Scott smirked. "That'll be the day." He paused. "Maybe I should have a word with him." Scott went to stand up but stopped when his father's hand met his shoulder.

"Leave him awhile; just give him some time to himself." Jeff paused, turning his attention back to where Virgil still slept. "You were saying about Virgil?"

"I'm worried about him. He was sick this morning and then he wouldn't eat anything. All the time he couldn't eat, he couldn't take the medication. Eventually he managed to eat a bread roll and all of two mouthfuls of soup." Scott sighed not surprised to see his father frowning with unyielding concern. "Dr Williams said he might lose his appetite a bit." Scott assured his father. "I just didn't expect this." He paused, regretful to be the one to cause such concern on his father's part. "At least now we've got some of the pills down him it seems to be helping with the pain."

Jeff sighed. "Why is he so tired though?" He thought aloud.

Scott coughed uncomfortably. "I think he exhausted himself this morning, that's all Dad." He tried to sound casual. "He's pushing himself too hard. Trying to do everything for himself when there's no need."

"Did that doctor at the hospital say anything about him feeling sick?" Jeff's frown met Scott's and Scott realised that his father wasn't really taking in what he was saying. Instead, his mind worried about Virgil's condition.

The younger man shook his head. "Not to me, but I'm not sure what he said to Virgil when I wasn't there. The bruising has really come out on his chest, so I suggested putting some ice on it. Virgil said that after I'd mentioned it, he remembered Dr Williams saying something about it. He says everything goes a bit blurry after they gave that sedative, but it got me thinking. What else did that doctor tell him when I wasn't there?" Scott ran a hand over his face, rubbing his chin and sighing.

Jeff sighed too. "Perhaps it might be worthwhile getting a doctor to look over him again." His tone of voice indicated that there was no 'perhaps' about it.

"I suggested that." Scott replied. "He insists he doesn't need one."

"We'll see about that." Jeff said ominously. There was a short pause, just long enough to feel the looming menace of the comment. "What about you?"

Scott shook his head. "I haven't had any supper; I was waiting to see what the others were doing. I knew you and Al would be back soon."

"I wasn't enquiring about your stomach Scott." Jeff grinned. "Are you alright?"

"Me?" Scott was surprised by the question. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Hungry but fine."

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "It's just yesterday and then this morning you seemed a bit…" No adequate word would come to Jeff, to describe his son's behaviour. "Tense." He sighed, shaking his head. "No more like… upset. I'd like to think if there was something troubling you son, you'd tell me."

Scott just shrugged. "I was just worried that's all. About both of them."

Jeff nodded but sighed again. "Scott, is there something you're not telling me?" He asked suddenly.

He knew and could see perfectly well that Scott wasn't telling him everything. Moreover, had long since concluded that there was more to Virgil 'exhausting' himself than Scott was prepared to admit. However, he knew Scott would be trying to protect him from the added worry.

Scott couldn't stop the almost immediate dilation of his pupils. He aimed to cover it up as soon as was physically possible and within blinking speed, his face was back to being unreadable and impassive.

"No, nothing. I was just worried that's all." He swallowed; he wasn't about to tell his father that Virgil gallivanting off around the city had stressed him out. Nor that his brother wasn't prepared to open up to him, so he opted for the 'truth but not the whole truth' approach.

Jeff watched him. Assuming there was more to come, he decided to delve a little deeper. "Son?"

Scott shrugged. "It's just…" He repeated the action. "I don't know. I'm used to seeing the others hurt or sick but Virgil's different. He wasn't complaining that he had flu when we were kids. He was running around with tissues and blankets, looking after the others, just like me." Scott frowned. "I can't remember ever seeing him like this before. Well, not in a long time anyway …" Scott bowed his head, unable and unwilling to explain any further.

"And that makes you feel vulnerable?" Scott looked up to his father, truly surprised by his perceptiveness. "Scott that's perfectly understandable." Jeff placed an arm around his shoulder. "You've been through a lot together but what's important is that you're there for him now, when he needs you." Unseen by his father Scott frowned further, wondering if Virgil would ever let him do that in his current state of mind. "Listen, why don't you take a break? You've been here all day with Virgil. Go down and see the others. I'm sure Gordon and John wouldn't mind the company. I'll stay with Virgil for a while." Jeff encouraged, attempting to erase the look of uncertainty on Scott's dark features.

"It's okay Dad." Scott shook his head. "I don't mind, I'd rather stay here anyway."

"Actually Scott." Jeff sighed. "I wouldn't mind a bit of time alone with him myself; I think we need to have a little chat. And between me and you, I think someone needs to keep a close eye on Alan." He admitted, looking at his eldest son and hoping for him to understand.

Reluctantly Scott nodded. "Right." He stood up slowly, glancing at Virgil every other second that passed. "I'll …" He gestured towards the door but made his reluctance obvious. "There's a towel holding a couple of ice packs on his chest. I was hoping it'd take some of the swelling down and it seemed to help."

Jeff nodded. "Don't worry, we'll be fine." He encouraged.

Scott nodded as, unwillingly, his feet began taking him out of the room. "I won't be long." He called as he found himself on the other side of the hotel door.

He sighed, at a loss of what else to do, he headed down to his brother's room on the floor below. He was somewhat surprised when the carriage, operated by a small dumpy man, deposited him on the correct floor. Only for him to spot Alan sat in the reception area.

He glanced around; the reception area on this floor was not dissimilar to the one on his own floor, or no doubt, every floor. Scattered armchairs and coffee tables filled the floor space. Whilst waitresses providing beverages weaved between them. Scott headed over to the chair his brother occupied, wondering why places like these insisted on leaving random magazines around that nobody read. Advancing towards where Alan sat in the corner he frowned. There was no cup on the table to indicate Alan had wanted a drink. Instead, his younger brother stared miserably into the glass tank in the wall, mesmerised by the tropical fish.

"Hey Kid." Scott sat down. "What are you doing out here?" Alan just shrugged.

It was when the uniform reply of 'don't call me kid' failed to emerge that Scott knew there was something really wrong. "Al?" Scott prompted.

"I err… I didn't want to go in there just yet." He gestured to the hallway across from where they sat. Down which was the room he was supposedly occupying. "That's all."

"Why?" Scott frowned as Alan shrugged, not hiding the wince this time.

"I don't know! I just don't feel like it." Alan snapped sulkily.

Scott nodded, seeing Alan obviously didn't want to talk about it. "Well, I'll keep you company until you do feel like it." He suggested as he relaxed into the soft chair. "You want a coffee?" He asked conversationally.

Alan shook his head. "No." He said eventually heaving a heavy sigh. "Actually Scott, I'd rather just be on my own for a bit. I just need some time. Y'know? Think about stuff, get my head straight." He went to stand up turning to his oldest brother just in time to see Scott shake his head emphatically. The older man took a firm grip of his arm, preventing him from leaving.

"Uh uh." Scott looked up to him. "That's exactly what Virgil said this morning. Then he disappeared for three hours, I'm not about to let you do the same."

Alan frowned, petulantly sitting back in the armchair and sighing. "Disappeared?" He asked, noticing Scott's tone. "What do you mean disappeared?"

Scott sighed. He hadn't intended to tell Alan about Virgil's morning jaunt but it had just slipped out. Now, the worry in the youngest mans eyes told Scott he had no choice but to tell the truth. "He went for a walk, but I think he struggled a bit. When he got back to the hotel, nearly three hours later, he could barely stand up. Not to mention the fact that he'd worried everybody sick." He paused. "Listen, don't mention it to Dad, he's got enough on his plate. We agreed to keep it to ourselves. All Dad knows is that Virgil's been pushing himself too hard and that he's exhausted." He caught Alan's eye. "You don't know anything else, okay?"

Alan nodded dutifully. "Okay, but he's alright isn't he? I mean …he looked terrible and Dad said his ribs were sore."

"Is that why you made such a speedy exit?" Scott smiled softly, hoping his youngest brother wouldn't shut him out as he had their father.

"Was it that obvious?" Alan winced but Scott just smiled, shaking his head a little.

"Virgil's fine. It's nothing a good night's sleep won't cure." Scott wished he could believe that as he adamantly as he'd informed his brother. Alan seemed to digest that information and nod accordingly. "If he hadn't gone for that walk then I seriously doubt he'd be feeling as bad as he does now. He's brought it all on himself."

Alan looked up, surprised at Scott's insinuation of blame. "Scott!" He exclaimed, an appalled frown creasing his eyebrows together.

"It's true." Scott said calmly. "He'll probably agree." He studied Alan as he returned his vision to the fish tank. Indicating that the conversation was finished.

"How did the interview go?" Scott tried a more direct track but Alan didn't reply. In fact, he made no movement to even acknowledge the question. Scott was more than aware that it wasn't because he hadn't heard correctly. "Do you want to talk about it?" He pushed.

"No." The reply came so quickly that Scott almost missed it.

"Well, did the investigators tell you anything? Did they say if there was anything wrong with the car?" Scott asked. "Do they know…"

"Are you deaf? I said I didn't want to talk about it!" Alan snapped.

"Okay, okay." Scott sat back as a waiter approached them, inquiring if they would like anything to drink. They both declined and soon they were back on their own again. A heavy silence sat over them. Scott knew the uncomfortable quiet and the lack of conversation were designed to force him to leave. However, he was determined to stay, regardless of the discomfort.

"Is it still raining?" Alan asked eventually.

Scott looked up at the question, not surprised at the sudden change in conversation but more the blatancy of it. "Err, I don't know." He shrugged. "I didn't even know it was raining." He paused. "How's the shoulder? John said the painkillers weren't working as well as they could be. I think Virgil's having the same problem."

Alan sighed; he'd been faced with this concern from all his brothers. "It's a bit sore." He rotated the injured limb cautiously, wincing and in the end giving up. "The painkillers are pretty effective but you can only take so many of them. That's when it starts hurting."

Scott nodded. "John's right. If you need something stronger, you just have to say."

Alan seemed to ignore the comment completely. "Jim Matterson said there's a good pizza place round the corner. Maybe we should order some supper, I'm starving." Alan sat forward, deep in thought. Scott frowned at his brother's change in mood. One second ago, he was snappy and tense yet now he seemed completely relaxed. "I could just eat a nice pizza, I think I missed lunch." He frowned as if trying to remember.

"Al," Scott began softly. "Look, I know you're worried. But you don't have to worry about Virgil okay? He'll be fine, just concentrate on getting better yourself." Scott wasn't about to let the subject drop without reassuring the obvious concern Alan felt.

"You're worried about him." Alan said accusingly, reproachfully.

Scott was surprised his younger brother had been paying attention at all; he'd seemed so distant. The critical tone he used clearly angered the older man. Scott met his gaze. Searching his eyes, he could see the seeds of the familiar fire of Alan's temper beginning to grow.

"I'm worried about both of you." Scott told him calmly.

"Huh!" Alan scoffed. "Yeah, isn't everyone!" He swallowed. "I can see it in your eyes just like I can Dad's. And John's and Gordon's, even Sam's." Scott frowned as to just what it was Alan was seeing. "That sympathetic concern." He said it with such an abundance of disgust; Scott was amazed to see him screw his nose up as he uttered the words.

"Because we care Al." Scott pressed with a frown. "It's only because we care about you. We want to help you."

"I don't need any help!" Scott couldn't help but smirk internally at the words. It was exactly what he expected Alan to say.

"Then we're here for when you do." Scott told him firmly. "Look, I know you're dealing with this in your own way and you're doing really well. We're all proud of you for handling this so maturely. But not talking to Dad or me, snapping at people and sulking." Scott shook his head. "There's nothing mature about that."

"Yeah, well from what I've heard you're not in a very good position to lecture me about snapping at people, Scott." Alan bit back, his temper rising.

Scott had been remarkably impressed with his own patience throughout this conversation so far but that last remark was a bridge too far. He'd kept his cool when Alan had snapped at him, spoken to him in a manner he knew Scott wouldn't appreciate. However, that retort was just what Scott needed to crack under the stress himself.

"You listen to me Kid and you listen good." He snapped back in return. His eyes glaring and his voice low so as not to cause a scene. "I know it's been tough for you these last few days, but it's been tough for all of us. If there's something on your mind, you've had plenty of offers from people willing to listen. But don't you ever, ever, speak to me like that again." Scott's eyes glowed with the amassed irritation. "You do as I say, not as I do. Got it?"

Alan nodded, lowering his head. Scott suddenly felt an abundance of sympathy for him, instantly softening. "Al, rejecting the people who are trying to help you isn't going to get you anywhere." He said softly. "You can always talk to me, you know that."

Alan nodded an almost indiscernible nod. Meeting Scott's gaze as a silent apology and acceptance were passed between them. To Scott, Alan's sudden but silent submission, and the way he avoided looking directly at him now, were sure signs he was making a break through. He fully expected his younger brother to open up to him, at any minute.

Suddenly though Alan stood up, his eyes becoming glassy. "I'm really ready for that pizza now." He licked his lips dreamily. "Chicken and peppers, sweet corn and mushrooms. And you can't have a pizza without pineapple, and extra tomato and cheese." He paused, smiling shakily as he fought to keep back how he was feeling behind this mask of indifference. He took in Scott's surprised expression. "I guess it's time to face the music, as Virgil'd say."

Standing alongside him, Scott grabbed his arm as he went to walk away. "Have you listened to anything I've just said?" He frowned hard; this wasn't the reaction he'd expected, not even close. The more seconds that passed, the more Scott realised that Alan had no intention of opening up to him at all, he never had.

Alan swallowed, placing a hand on Scott's shoulder and squeezing it hard. "A lot more than you think." He told his older brother's heavy frown with a shaky smile. He walked off down the corridor, knowing Scott would follow.

XxxxX

Jeff had long since vacated his spot on Scott's bed and opted for perching closer to his sleeping son. After Virgil had become restless, he had taken to softly running a hand through his son's hair in the same way he had done countless times before. His thumb softly caressed the sleeping mans forehead. Jeff smiled contently as Virgil murmured again in his sleep. Repeatedly shifting and fidgeting, before screwing his face up against the discomfort any movement produced.

Slowly but eventually, his eyelashes fluttered. Jeff watched closely as two eye lids slipped open sleepily to reveal the intense russet eyes of his late wife. Jeff smiled gently at the slow reactions and his sluggish movements as Virgil blinked several times in an effort to focus.

Virgil turned to the hand that softly caressed the top of his hand; it stopped doing so as his eyes met his fathers. Virgil's immediate reaction was to glance down the bed to look for Scott, he frowned when he realised there was no sign of his brother. "He's gone down to see Alan." Jeff paused, a warm smile parting his lips. "Hi Son."

"Dad!" Virgil smiled in reply. He attempted to push himself up but Jeff placed a gentle hand on one of his injured shoulders.

"It's alright son." He smiled widely. "Don't you get up on my account. Just relax." He instructed.

Virgil settled back into the mattress and the soft pillows with a gentle groan. His eyes slipped closed but he blinked them back open again. "How's Alan?"

Jeff sighed. "He'll be alright. These interviews are tough going though." He warned. "Sam wasn't entirely pleased with the outcome of his either."

Virgil nodded, his eyes slipping closed once more. "I'll go tomorrow. I'm sorry about today."

"Scott said you over did it this morning?" Virgil made a new effort to keep his eyes open, wondering just what Scott had told their father. "He told me what happened." Virgil gulped, anticipating a sermon. "Virgil, you've got to take it easy. I'll spare you the lecture, you don't look like you'll be able to keep your eyes open long enough." Virgil smiled, relieved but Jeff looked down at him sternly. "No more trying to do everything yourself, okay? If you're struggling, Scott would only be too pleased to help. Those ribs are going to heal properly if you don't rest."

Virgil nodded. "I won't be doing it again. I'm sorry Dad, and I'm sorry about the interview."

Jeff shook his head quickly and firmly. "That's good Son, but you have no reason to be sorry. You don't have to speak to those investigators until you're feeling up to it. I just want you to rest, take it easy." Jeff paused, feeling he'd made his point. "How are you feeling now?"

Virgil blinked. "Okay, I think. I feel really drowsy but that's probably those pills."

Jeff nodded. "How about the pain? Scott said more bruises have come out and that your chest was sore." He frowned in concern, looking sympathetically at his second eldest son.

"It's okay." Virgil told him. "Dr Williams said yesterday that more bruising would come out, it's not that bad."

Jeff nodded, still concerned. "Can I see?" He was fast coming to the conclusion that Dr Williams wasn't as efficient as he'd been led to believe.

Virgil frowned now too. He knew there was no way he could say no seriously. Not without causing a big scene and convincing his father it was a lot worse then it actually was. He closed his eyes and cringed uncomfortably as he felt the bed sheets being pulled away. Then the refreshing cool of the ice being removed.

"I'll get you some fresh ice." He heard the concerned frown through his father's voice and held back the wince. Only opening his eyes again when he heard soft footsteps get nearer, Jeff smiled softly up to him. "Okay." He perched on the bed and used the towel to gently wipe away any condensation on Virgil's chest. He watched intently as Virgil grimaced continually throughout the process. "Here you go." He placed the ice on either side of his son's chest with careful consideration. "Is that better?"

Virgil nodded, shivering against the cold. He forced himself to breathe slowly and not take in the deep breaths that had caused him so much pain before.

"Son, I really think we should get another Doctor to look at you." Jeff suggested, sitting back and waiting for the rebuke he knew was coming. "Those bruises look awful."

"Dad, it's okay. Really." Virgil tried to persuade him. "It feels much better now I've taken those pills."

"I know son, but Scott said you were sick this morning. If you can't keep any food down, then you can't take the pills. Maybe a doctor can change your medication so as you don't have to eat when you take it." Jeff suggested. "Do you remember Charlie Gore? He's a doctor, and he lives not more than twenty miles away. I'm sure he wouldn't mind coming out here to take a look if I gave him a call."

"Dad, I'll be fine now." Virgil shook his head. "Look, if I'm still no better in the morning, we'll call him. Okay?" Virgil bartered, knowing his father wouldn't be satisfied with a straightforward no.

Jeff nodded with a sigh. "I don't like to see any of you in pain when you don't have to be." He said softly, Virgil watched him as he silently considered where to go on from those words.

More than a few minutes passed before he seemed to steel himself and continue. Virgil had taken the time to indulge in the quiet and had closed his eyes again. Teetering on the edge of sleep. "Maybe, if I'd gone with you instead of Scott…" Jeff trailed off with a sigh. "I should have gone with you." He admitted under his breath. He had wrongly assumed that Virgil's closed eyes meant he was asleep again.

Virgil frowned hard, puzzled as to what his father meant. "I… I don't understand."

The words startled Jeff slightly. "Well you see… Well, after the accident, I thought it best if Scott went with you to the hospital and I stayed with Alan. I wanted to go with both of you but I couldn't be at the hospital with you and with Alan. You seemed okay in yourself and Alan was distraught, I wanted to be the one to tell him about Mark. I didn't know how he was going to react." Jeff sighed, running a hand through his own hair and sighing again. "Maybe it would have been better if I'd left Scott to take care of Alan."

"Dad, don't do this." Virgil shook his head. "You couldn't have been with both of us and you're right, Alan needed you more than I did. At least, it sounds that way from what Scott said. Besides, it's not like I was on my own; I had Scott with me."

Jeff's head suddenly dropped as his gaze took to the floor. "Yeah, I know." He scoffed quietly. "You and Scott, huh?" He smiled bitterly. Virgil wondered if this was what Scott meant when he said his father often felt guilty about the fact that they were so close. It was one side to his father of many that Virgil was yet to see for himself.

"The thing is Virgil; he's not your father. I am." Jeff continued.

"And you're Alan's father too." Virgil pointed out, with renewed resolve. His fatigue forgotten. "And deep down, you know you did the right thing." Virgil paused, smiling. "If you'd gone with me yesterday. Don't you think you'd just be having this conversation with Al instead?"

Jeff seemed to think about that for several minutes before agreeing with a gentle nod. "Probably." Virgil wasn't sure if his words had sunk in and Jeff really agreed, or if he just wanted to change the subject. It wasn't like his father to speak so candidly about how he felt, never mind his mistakes. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. "You're right. I just feel as if I should've found a way to be with both of you."

"You did your best Dad, you did what you thought was right at the time. We all did." Virgil sighed. "We're all here now and we're all okay-ish." He added with a smile. "We can deal with the rest." He said confidently.

"I certainly hope so." Jeff sighed. "When did you become so wise?" He asked with a small smile.

"I learnt from the best." Virgil replied with his own smile. "Like father, like son. Right?"

His smile faltered and Jeff knew it was one of the subtle comments Virgil often made around him, that expressed his son's deep desire to be everything his father was. Jeff smiled in return but as usual couldn't bring himself to say the words that he wanted to hear. Virgil often compared himself to Jeff, in the hope that his father would realise that as much as he was like his mother, he was a Tracy at heart. In addition, that he possessed elements of his father's character too. It was a desire that often had a great effect on important decisions in his life; including the choice they would all be given – their chosen careers or fulfilling their fathers dream.

Jeff cleared his throat, feeling the intensity becoming too much. "And how's Scott dealing with all this?"

He was taken aback when Virgil frowned. "Scott? What do you mean?"

Jeff shrugged, passively. He had hoped that Virgil would be able to tell him something about what was going on. He hadn't even entertained the concept that he wouldn't know.

"He seemed distant last night." Jeff frowned. "And he was very upset this morning."

Virgil shook his head, sticking out his bottom lip and appearing puzzled. "Upset? How do you mean upset?" He fished for more information.

Jeff shrugged again. "As if he had something else on his mind, something important to him. To begin with, last night, I thought he was just worried about you. That a good night's sleep was all he needed but then this morning …" Jeff shook his head, frustrated at the lack explanation. "He seemed even more anxious then he had last night." Jeff paused. "You didn't notice anything?" He took in the look of astonishment on Virgil's face. "Don't look so surprised Son, I'm a lot more adept at reading you two then you think. Scott's been very worried about you."

Virgil sighed softly. He was pretty sure the anxiousness in Scott was something he had caused by disappearing earlier in the morning. "I haven't really noticed anything." Virgil swallowed guiltily. He had never developed the same skills as Scott had when it came to being able to wrap his father around his little finger.

"Virgil?" Jeff asked suspiciously. "What is it?"

Virgil closed his eyes, sighing softly again. "It's my fault; I've been an idiot Dad." He confided, dropping his gaze. Ashamed to admit to his behaviour.

Jeff waited for him to expand on that. When no further comment came, he felt Virgil needed prompting. "Son?"

"Things aren't good… With Scott" Virgil admitted softly, sadly. "It hasn't been easy." He took in a shaky breath. "I haven't made things easy for him since yesterday."

"How do you mean?" Jeff frowned, stunned by the revelation. He wasn't expecting this at all.

Virgil sighed once more, if it wasn't for the pain it would have been a heavier one but he shook his head remorsefully. "I'll talk to him Dad." Virgil guaranteed. "I promise, I'll make it right."

Jeff sighed. "Yes Son, I know you will." He smiled sadly. "What did you do? Did you say something to upset him?" He enquired, unable not to ask. He had long ago accepted that his two eldest sons refrained from telling him everything and often confided in each other. It didn't mean he had to sit back and let it happen without interference.

Virgil looked away, studying the ceiling in great detail as he replied. "Actually it's more what I didn't say."

Jeff frowned, looking down at his son. "Meaning?" He asked.

"Meaning I'll talk to him Dad." Virgil yawned, eager to discontinue this conversation. "I'll make sure things are okay."

"Alright." Jeff nodded, accepting that it would probably be better left to Virgil anyway, with a not so gentle sigh. "You look tired." He paused to regretfully eye his son's pale complexion.

"I feel it." Virgil closed his eyes and let himself sink into the pillows. "Dr Williams said I'd feel the effects of the sedative."

"I know Son, but you shouldn't still be feeling it now. That was twenty four hours ago." Jeff sighed. "I really think we should get a doctor to look at you Virgil, it's not normal for you to be so tired."

Virgil allowed his eyes to remain closed as he responded. "It's my own fault Dad. Scott was right, I … I exhausted myself this morning. I wasn't really thinking straight and I pushed myself too far." He shook his head at his own stupidity. "I'll be fine in the morning."

"Just don't forget that promise. If you don't feel any better by morning, then I want Charlie Gore down here before lunch time." Jeff ordered.

Virgil nodded. "He will be and I promise you I'll make sure everything's okay with Scott too." He blinked sleepily, sighing and shifting slightly underneath the covers. He cleared his throat softly, holding back another yawn. He could feel himself starting to drift off, feel the pain killers still dulling the pain so as he could rest.

"Scott said he wouldn't be long." Jeff kept his voice low as he reached out to Virgil's arm. Strumming his thumb over the tanned skin softly to get his sons attention. "Do you want me to leave you to get some sleep?"

"No." Virgil muttered, sighing as deeply as he could.

"Virgil?" His caress moved back to Virgil's head a finger strumming over his forehead once more. He smiled down as Virgil's eyes opened again.

Virgil cleared his throat, smiling as he opened his eyes to look up to his father. "Stay?"

"Of course I'll stay." Jeff told him with a smile. "Now, you get back to sleep."

"Father?" He asked through closed eyes.

"Hmm?" Jeff enquired softly.

"Thanks." Virgil looked up to him.

Jeff smiled surprised. "What on earth for? You've nothing to thank me for son."

"For understanding about Scott, and everything... Just…Thanks." Virgil said sleepily as he closed his eyes again.

"Shh." Jeff soothed him, as he used to do when he was a small child. "Just go back to sleep."

Jeff watched his second eldest son sink back into the pillows. Sighing lightly but contently as his breathing slowly dropped into an even pattern, and Jeff became convinced he was asleep. He studied his son for quite some time, savouring the moments he could before Scott would return.

He couldn't remember the last time he sat down and felt the need to watch any of them sleep. He was reminded of when they were babies; when he regularly watched them sleep after putting them to bed, unable to draw his eyes away. However, he had long since thought of any of them as children. Sighing again, he continued to run a thumb softly over Virgil's forehead. Smiling tenderly to himself at just how peaceful he seemed. Jeff pulled a chair between the two beds and lowered himself into it, laying his head alongside his sons. He allowed Virgil's rhythmic breathing to resonate around him, content for now to just sit and watch. Thankful of the young mans presence at all.


	10. Lashing Out

Authors Note:  Just to say a bit thank you and to all the people who have left a review or emailed me personally. The encouragement and support I have received so far, has been invaluable. I appreciate everyone's suggestions and thoughts on my writing; so please continue to let me know your opinions. Thank you.

Chapter Ten – Lashing Out

The atmosphere in the room was strained to say the least. Pleasant but forced conversation broke up the meaningful, sympathetic stares Alan could feel all around him. As a result, he felt claustrophobic and irascible.

The food had only just been warm when it had arrived but now, as Alan pushed it around his paper plate, it was most definitely cold. He could feel Gordon watching his every movement and knew his brother was becoming more and more worried about him. He chose to ignore it, along with the other concerned glances, for the sake of his sanity.

"They must know by now, if there's a fault with the car." John was saying, as Alan re-tuned into the pointless conversation. "I don't understand why they can't just tell you."

Sam sighed. "I wish they would. If I just knew what was wrong with it, if it was something that I could have stopped from happening or if it was my fault."

"It wasn't your fault Sam." Scott was quick to point out. "We all know that you would never have let the car out, if there'd been the slightest doubt in your mind that it wasn't fit to race."

Sam shrugged. "That's the point Scott, maybe I should have had doubts. I wish Kenny had been here."

"You're a perfectly competent mechanic Sam. Virgil's right, there was absolutely nothing wrong with that car when it lined up and you know that just as well as the rest of us." Scott argued.

"Maybe, but those investigators… they're damned good, Scott. They made me feel as if I was the chief suspect in a murder investigation or something." At that comment, Scott looked across to where Alan sat. Wondering if that's why he was so reluctant to talk about his interview. He watched his youngest brother as he deliberately avoiding looking up and meeting his gaze. Sam continued. "As if it was all my responsibility, I mean those interviews are pretty intense." He shook his head. "You'd better warn Virgil. John said he looked awful earlier, how is he?"

"Okay," Scott reached forward to top his glass up before sitting back in his chair. "He's just exhausted that's all. He needs a good nights rest." He was unsurprised to see Gordon staring at him, as if asking a silent question. "I'll talk to him." Gordon nodded imperceptibly at the whispered answer to his unspoken question.

"What'll happen on Wednesday?" John asked.

Scott shrugged. "I presume we'll go and they'll read out their report."

"Like a press conference or a court?" Sam asked.

Scott shrugged again. "I don't know, I wouldn't think it'll be as formal as a courtroom. I guess Dad would know."

"Did they say anything to you Al?" John asked, glancing up at his brother from his own chair. When no reply came, he repeated the question. "Al?"

Alan looked up, biting down his temper at the four sets of eyes that stared at him anxiously. "Sorry what?" He ground out.

He saw Scott look to Gordon out the corner of his eye, feeling the irritation and frustration build inside. He gulped it down though, trying to focus on John.

"I was just asking if they explained what would happen on Wednesday?" John asked, sipping at the glass in his hand.

"No," Alan swallowed. "No, they didn't say anything to me."

"What nothing at all?" Gordon asked, frowning.

"I said no, didn't I?" Alan snapped again. "Can't we talk about something else?" He looked away obviously distressed at the topic of conversation. At the same time, fully aware that his outbursts would only worsen the stares of sympathy and pity.

"Well, at least it actually feels likes we're in England now." Gordon stretched out, sighing. On realising he was the recipient of several questioning gazes, he continued. "It's raining." He stated. "Now, who said it would rain whilst we were here? I'm sure somebody said something about a bet…" He stroked his chin, feigning memory loss. "Oh that's right!" He exclaimed. "Me! I said it would rain and yet again, I was right." He grinned at his elder brothers and Sam as they shook their heads.

"I'll tell you something else as well," Sam leaned forward to push his plate alongside the crumbled pizza boxes. "Jim was right about those pizzas, they were good! Better than that hotel food at lunchtime." He pulled a face, indicating his distain.

Scott laughed. "I guess I should be pleased I skipped breakfast then." He commented.

"Actually Scott," John told him gleefully. "Breakfast was the best meal they've served all day. You really missed out, didn't he Gords?"

"Yeah." Gordon tried to sound as if he knew what they were talking about. In truth though, he was too busy not so covertly watching Alan. "It was good." He said vaguely.

"Good!" Crowed Sam. "It was great; you can't beat a full English breakfast in England." He frowned. "But then, that kind of makes sense doesn't it?" He laughed. "Your Dad seemed to enjoy it, I guess that's where you lot get your appetites from."

John smirked. "There's nothing wrong with having a healthy appetite. Grandma says that."

"Say, how is your Grandma? I haven't seen her since the last time she came to see Virg." Sam asked, shaking his head at the fond memory.

"And when was that?" Gordon smirked. "Last week, knowing Grandma!" He grinned. "I'm sure pleased she can't come visit me any time she damned well pleases. There are advantages to being in the Services don't you think Scott?"

Scott had to grin in amusement but shook his head too. "Gordon, have some respect. She means well."

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you're not even a little eeny weenie teeny bit pleased," Gordon held his thumb and finger apart slightly as he pulled a disbelieving expression at his oldest brother. "That she can't just turn up at whatever base you're stationed at. I know I sure as hell am." Gordon grinned again. "Though, actually I think she might be quite impressed with my quarters." He exclaimed. "I can just see her trying to force feed a whole crew though!" He breathed in a sharp breath, whistling it out.

Sam laughed at the way Gordon played on his older brother's serious side. "You make her out to be some kind of tyrant." Sam shook his head. "I didn't think she was really that bad. In fact I thought she was great, I loved her."

John sat up in alarm. "That does it!" He said suddenly. "Virgil must be taking in random old ladies, because the woman you've met is obviously not our Grandmother."

"Aw John." Gordon shook his head. "You've got my condolences bro, it's you next." He reached out a hand to John's shoulder, grasping it with a clap and shaking his own head sadly.

"Alright, alright!" Scott shook his head. "That's enough about Grandma!" He smiled humorously.

"Aw come on Scott!" Gordon purred. "You know we're only joking. We love her really."

"Yeah well, show some respect then." Scott told them. "We've got a lot to thank Grandma for, especially you three." Gordon was silenced immediately. When John bowed his head suddenly feeling guilty, Scott knew he'd made his point. They were only joking, he understood that and he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty himself. Their grandmother was a wonderful woman and had played a big part in their lives since their mother's death. However, Scott knew just as well as the others that she could, at times, be a little overwhelming.

He changed the subject, before Gordon could make another clever comment. "Is there some of that left for Dad?" He gestured to the pizza boxes.

"Yep." John sighed. "I couldn't eat another thing."

"Me too." Gordon released a dual sigh. "I'm stuffed." He glanced across to the sole slice of pizza that Alan relentlessly played with. "Do you want that Al?"

Alan looked startled by the question but managed a distracted "No." Before handing the plate over to his brother.

Quick to divert attention from his youngest brother's distant mood, Scott turned to Sam. "I still owe you that drink Sam." He said conversationally.

"Don't worry about it." The mechanic shrugged. "We'll do it some other time." He said unperturbed. "Unless you want to go now?" He asked, suddenly considering the fact that Scott might want a break from the intensity of the current situation and might actually be looking for an escape.

"No, not tonight." Scott shook his head. "I'd rather stay here. I don't want to leave Dad with Virgil all night." Scott paused. "If that's okay with you?" He added quickly.

"Yeah, of course. I figured you'd say that." Sam smiled. "Actually, I don't mind at all. I think I'm doing okay without the Scott Tracy Guide to Woman at the minute." Scott smirked at his sarcasm.

"Virgil is okay though, isn't he Scott?" Gordon asked anxiously but Scott was more than aware that the youngest of his brothers was all also staring up at him awaiting an answer.

"Yeah, yeah." Scott tried to sound as casual as possible. "He'll be fine. I'd just rather not leave him on his own or at the mercy of Dad, that's all." He wasn't so sure it was the truth. But he refused to force extra worry onto his youngest brothers when he knew they had enough on their plate already.

John sighed. "Yeah, Dad." He said ominously. "He's been getting awfully stressed these last two days. He's been running around trying to get the car organised and worrying about Virg and you, Al."

"Yeah, poor Dad." Gordon agreed. "So much for a relaxing, stress free weekend."

"Meaning?" Alan asked, heatedly.

"He just meant Dad's been stressed, that's all Al." Scott tried to calm the situation before his youngest brother exploded, which he could see was fast becoming an inevitability.

"What? And you think I haven't been stressed?" Alan snapped, suddenly furious at what he saw as a snipe.

"Al calm down, we're all stressed." John pointed out softly.

"Hmm, yeah." Alan grumbled; looking away as various concerned gazes at his irritability passed around him and over his head. He sat there, his temper reaching new heights and fast approaching the end of his short fuse. Just like a time bomb, the explosion was inevitable. It was more a question of when, and who the casualties would be.

"You know what?" Sam said, stretching and yawning exaggeratedly. "It's been a tough day, what with all those interviews and everything, huh Al?" Sam smiled, but no reply came. He glanced across at Scott before continuing. "I think I'm going to catch an early one. Are you coming Scott?"

"Yeah, sure." He smiled, standing up from his seat. "I told Dad I wouldn't be long anyway." He glanced at his watch. "We should be getting back. Night."

Sam followed suit, getting to his feet and following as Scott headed for the door. Glancing at Gordon, John got up too. "Night guys." Sam called. Gordon returned the call but Alan said nothing, preferring to stew in his silence.

John sighed as he walked with Scott and Sam through the small corridor to the door. "What's the matter with him?" He growled.

"Those interviews were pretty tough going John." Sam said sadly. "They would have been hard on him."

"Sam's right." Scott agreed as they stepped outside and John swung on the door as he had done the previous night. "The Kid's upset; we should cut him some slack."

"Easier said than done." John raised his eyebrows. "He did blow up over nothing in there Scott."

"Yeah well, I can't imagine how he's feeling right now. He wouldn't talk to me or Dad earlier; I just hope Gordon can get through to him." Scott sighed again; he placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I know those interviews were tough and I know Alan'll take it personally. We can't really blame him for being upset, or angry."

"Hmm." John nodded sceptically. "But he should realise, we're all trying to help him Scott."

"Yeah, well he's not the only one." Scott muttered cryptically.

"Don't worry; I'll keep an eye on him." John assured his older brother. "Gordon will make sure he's okay. I'll see you at breakfast in the morning."

"Yeah." Scott smiled. "From what I hear it's not something I want to miss out on. Night John."

"Yeah Night." Sam called as they began walking away. John's reply was drowned out as Sam slung a lazy arm around the eldest Tracy brother's neck and spoke enthusiastically. "That breakfast is to die for, Virgil is going to love it."

The conversation trailed off as John closed the door and headed back to where he could hear his youngest brothers talking urgently.

"Don't." Alan snapped. John watched as Gordon moved to sit alongside his youngest brother and Alan continued to shrug off the comforting arm he tried to provide.

"What is it?" Gordon asked, settling to sit alongside him.

"I don't want to talk about it." Came the terse reply.

"I thought we had a promise, that when you needed to talk you would." Gordon said gently, glancing up at Alan's stony face.

"What makes you so sure I need to talk about anything?" Alan persisted.

"Al, you've hardly said a word all night. You wanted pizza and then didn't eat any of it, you snapped at me, and Scott." Gordon sighed. "I know the interview must've been tough today."

"Don't pretend you know anything." Alan spat, standing up furiously. He began to walk towards the corridor where John was currently concealed. However, he remembered that his older brothers were there blocking his escape route.

"Don't run off like this!" Gordon called, getting to his feet. "Where are you going?"

"I need some fresh air." Alan seemed to glance longingly at the corridor before spying another route of escape.

"It's raining!" Gordon pointed out, beginning to get frustrated.

"Well I'll get wet then!" Alan snarled. He pushed his way past his brother and out onto the balcony, slamming the glass door shut behind him.

Gordon went to follow, surprised when a hand on his shoulder made him jump. "John!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump." The blonde apologised.

"I thought you were with Scott and Sam." Gordon waved a nondescript hand. "Have they gone?"

"I was and yeah, they've gone." John said quietly as both of their gazes returned to Alan's now silhouetted form in the rain outside. Gordon went to walk towards the door. "Leave him." John increased his grip. "Just give him some time to cool off. He can't stay out there all night; he'll come back inside eventually. I'll bet he's soaked already."

Gordon sighed. "You know better then that John. He's so stubborn; if he's left to his own devices he'll probably catch pneumonia." Gordon groaned in frustration, reaching a hand up to run over his hair in irritation. He began to pace as his hands fell to his face. "I thought he was doing alright John." He shook his head. "It's like this interview has just taken him right back to square one."

John shrugged. "Sam said it was tough. I don't think we can really grasp how tough or just what he's feeling right now. No matter how you look at it, he was driving that car and he was responsible for Virgil's safety. Now Virgil's hurt and another guy's dead, if I was him I'd never want to get behind the wheel again."

Gordon sighed, plonking down heavily on a nearby bed as John followed suit. "People keep forgetting that he's hurt too! His shoulder's just one big bruise and I know his ribs are hurting him more then he's letting on." Gordon let the frustrated rant subside. "He said that." He admitted after a pause.

"What?" John asked, somewhat confused by the comment. "I don't …"

"He said that he wasn't ever going to race again. I thought it was just the shock and we talked about it, we talked all of this through." Gordon sighed yet again waving a hand erratically. Before reaching the hand up and kneaded his forehead thoughtfully. "I really thought he was okay, maybe I should talk to him again."

John smiled. "I know this is frustrating but you're doing everything you can Gordy, you can't do it for him. And he knows you'll support him whatever happens, we all will. You're right about the racing too. It's probably just a reaction; let's just see what happens. Huh?" John sighed.

"You think I should try and talk to him?" Gordon asked, glancing up to where Alan was hugging himself in the cold. "He'll stay out there all night if I don't. Won't he?"

"Do you want me to try?" John asked, knowing his brother would say no.

"No, I'll do it." Gordon stood up. Smiling down at his older brother. "Thanks John." He took in a deep breath. "Wish me luck."

He took a step forward but John stopped him. "Hold on. Here." He passed Gordon two waterproof jackets. "Listen," He continued. "I'm going to leave you two to it. I don't want him to feel like I'm watching him or anything; he's cagey enough as it is. I'll go to bed, but I'll leave out some towels on that heater for when you come back in."

"Thanks John." Gordon said sincerely as he turned back to the door, putting one of the jackets around his own shoulders.

"Scott's not the only big brother in this family y'know?" He smiled awry as Gordon turned back to him with a gentle smile. "Night Kid." He added softly.

"Night." Gordon sighed as he reached for the door handle.

He could see Alan huddled against the glass door; arms around himself as he tried to keep himself warm. The rain pelted down relentlessly and his blonde hair was stuck down flat to his head. The water was running straight down his face and literally pouring off his nose and chin. Gordon pulled the waterproof jacket up around his neck, squirming as the cold water hit the back of his neck and dripped under the coat. He walked slowly over to where his younger brother stood, unperturbed by the pouring rain.

"I told you it was raining." He smiled.

"Yeah well, I told you I'd get wet." Alan muttered. As Gordon got closer, he could see his brother was shivering.

"Here." Gordon held out the other jacket. "Put this on." Alan seemed to hesitate. "Go on, put it on." Gordon encouraged. "You'll catch a cold out here." Alan slowly took the jacket and put it on. His shivering in the cold and wet conditions made his movement slower. "According to Dad, even when it rains on this new island he's bought, it's still hot. Why is it the rain always seems colder in England anyway?" Gordon muttered to himself. He let a brief silence envelope them as the rain continued to pound down, before he spoke again. Softly this time. "Are you going to come inside so as we can talk about this?"

He watched Alan shrug. "What is there to talk about?" He asked. The edginess had gone from his voice replaced with a forlorn sadness.

"How about why we're stood outside in the rain?" Gordon suggested, a grin on his lips. He studied Alan closely, trying to predict his reaction.

"It doesn't feel like I'm crying in the rain. I can't even tell I'm doing it." Alan muttered, his voice squeaking as it broke. He swallowed as he turned to face his brother sheepishly and Gordon caught sight of his red eyes.

"Al," He sighed. "Come here." He enveloped his arms around the young man as Alan leant into the embrace, taking strength from it. "Come on, let's get you inside. Hmm?" He glanced down at the open jacket were Alan's clothing had darkened and stuck to his body. "You must be freezing." Gordon sighed. "Come inside." He tried to lead Alan back inside but the young man stopped him.

Alan snivelled. "Is John in there waiting to lecture me?" He shivered still.

Gordon shook his head. "No, he's gone to bed. Now come on." Alan hesitated again and Gordon turned back to face him. "Come on Al. If I catch a cold, I'll be blaming you."

"Blame." Alan mused. "That's a weird word."

Gordon frowned. "What? Al I …" He stopped as he spied the opened whisky bottle on the balcony wall, he moved closer. "Alan have you been drinking?"

"Does it matter?" Alan asked, swallowing and squinting against the rain as it continued to pour.

"Of course it matters!" Gordon exclaimed, a clap of thunder could be heard in the distance and he glanced out over the city instinctively before turning back. "You've been taking pills all afternoon, you idiot! Where did you…How much have you drunk?" Gordon asked urgently. "Alan! How much?" He shouted when he failed to get a response fast enough.

Alan merely laughed. "Not enough." He shrugged. "So what?"

"So what?" Gordon asked incredulously. "Are you insane?" He reached for the bottle. Seeing it was still almost full, he breathed a hesitant sigh of relief. In reality, he knew Alan hadn't had the time to drink that much, but the anxiousness at the prospect remained. "You could've killed yourself." Gordon seethed angrily.

"Give me the bottle." Alan said stonily.

"No." Gordon replied, a contrast to his brother angry words.

"I said give it to me!" Alan snapped, pushing at Gordon to get the bottle from his hand. Gordon kept him at bay with an arm across his chest, gentle but firm pressure pinning him against the glass door. Regardless of the bruises and the grimace that dominated Alan's expression.

"And I said no!" He shouted, close to Alan's face. The rain continued to fall as they stared at each other, their fiery, angry glares fixed on each other. "You idiot! Get inside." Gordon ordered as his temper rose at his brother's stupidity. "Go on! Get inside!"

"Is that how you order your men around?" Alan asked snidely. "Is it?" Gordon didn't reply grinding his teeth together instead in an effort not to bite back a retort. "You're pathetic! You don't have a clue and you know it! All this command stuff, it's a heap of crap. Look at you…" He struggled against Gordon's grip, despite the fact that it was hurting him. "You can't control your men, so don't try and tell me what to do. I'm your brother; you've got no control over me!" He scoffed a smirk.

Alan of all people knew how difficult Gordon was finding commanding men. He had confided in his brother that the task was daunting for him a long time ago. Just like Alan had confided in him his worry over the car. Those few words stung Gordon to the core.

Not content with the angry expression now prominent on his brother's features, Alan persisted. "You think you're so much better, with your fancy equipment and your underground garden!" Alan continued to snarl patronisingly. Watching the fire ignite in Gordon's eyes; exactly as he'd anticipated. A fire that he knew would not be confined to his brother's eyes for long. He goaded him further. "You think you're so great because of your career but the truth is; the only reason you joined the WASP's was because you weren't clever enough to go to college. You're a failure Gordon." Alan scoffed loudly. "The high and mighty WASP commander who's so intelligent he didn't need to go to college!" Alan declared loudly. "And they think I'm the dumb one, it's you that hasn't got any brains!"

Gordon was breathing erratically now, frequently pushing back against Alan's attempts to remove his restraining hand. He knew deep down that he was inflicting pain, but allowed himself to forget that fact in his fury. "You're damned lucky you're my brother." He spat angrily, his rage building to a crescendo.

"Or what? Huh?" Alan sneered. "Are you going to hit me? Yeah, you'd be a big man then wouldn't you? Come on Gordy, what you going to do?"

Gordon forced himself to clam down. Deep down he knew his brother was goading a reaction out of him on purpose but it still made him angry and hurt. "Go inside." He said calmly. "Go inside now and we'll talk."

"I don't want to talk!" Alan told him loudly. "I just want to be left alone!" He shouted in his brother's face.

"I'm trying to help you." Gordon ground out, remaining as calm as he could. Veins in his forehead and hands protruded though, revealing his terse angry state.

"Well newsflash!" Alan smirked. "I don't need your help, fat lot of good you've been so far." He growled.

Gordon took in a deep breath; he tried to excuse Alan's hurtful jibes on the pretext that it was the alcohol talking. In reality, he really hadn't had enough to affect him like that. The whisky bottle had scarcely been touched. That last comment was the final straw for Gordon; he released his hold on his brother and stepped back.

"Alright, fine." He said, barely containing his own anger. "You want to stay out here and catch pneumonia? That's just fine, you go ahead. And here." He thrust the whisky bottle into Alan's hands. "You want to drink yourself stupid on top of those pills? That's fine too, go right ahead. But remember this; I tried to help you, I was prepared to listen to you." He pointed a finger in Alan's face. "So when you've finished wallowing in your own pathetic, self pity and realise that you just made the biggest mistake of your life." Gordon's voice shook with the anger he felt, not just anger, but hurt at the comments his closest brother had made too. "Don't come running to me."

He continued, his voice betraying the emotion he felt. "Find some other mug. Maybe they'll do a better job, seeing as I've been a 'fat lot of good' so far." He breathed heavily, eyes bulging. Stepping back, his nostrils flared as he forcefully tried to calm himself down. Before taking one look at his brother, he stormed back inside out of the rain, slamming the door with force as he went.

Alan sunk down the glass to the floor and allowed the rain to run off his head as he hugged his knees close to him. "I didn't mean it; I'm sorry Gordy." He sobbed, but the redhead was too far away to hear, and to angry to care.

By the time Alan made his way inside later that night, the shared room was pitch black. He stumbled to the bathroom and dried himself off, shivering as he made his way back into the main room. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and he had become accustomed to the room enough to negotiate his way to his bed successfully. Sitting down with a heavy sigh his eyes rested on Gordon. Though his brother's eyes were closed, Alan knew he wouldn't have slept until he had heard him return. And doubted he was really asleep. He edged closer to the bed, hesitantly.

"Gordy?" He called out softly, not wanting to wake John. "Gordon, are you awake?" To Alan it was a question he already knew the answer to.

Gordon concentrated on forcefully relaxing every muscle in his body. His face impassive and his body seemingly limp, despite the fact that in reality, every muscle was taut with anticipation. He felt Alan's hand reach out to his face, the tiniest hairs on his skin sat up with the proximity.

"I know you're not asleep." He heard his brother's voice shake with remorse that he knew could never be falsified however; he still couldn't find it in himself to open his eyes. He was still too angry to trust himself. Instead, he kept as still as physically possible, making no movement. Attempting to convince his younger brother that he was indeed asleep. An attempt that he knew was already futile. Nevertheless, he endeavoured to keep his breathing steady and not allow the expectation he felt to creep through.

Eventually Alan gave up and sat back down on his bed. "Night then." He said dejectedly as he tucked his legs in between the sheets and slowly lay down.

Gordon let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding as Alan got back into bed, and he allowed his eyes to open fractionally. When he realised his younger brother was lying on his injured side and staring at him, he quickly slipped them shut again. Eventually nodding off.

Alan meanwhile lay awake, sorrowfully staring at his brother as he slept. Numerous thoughts ran through his head, most of them regretful. As he finally allowed his eyes to close, single droplets of water escaped them.


	11. Attempted Apologies

Authors Note: Thank you to all those who left a review for ten. Please continue to let me know your thoughts and feelings; it really helps to know the effect a chapter has on the reader.

Chapter Eleven – Attempted Apologies

Scott and Sam made their way back to their room. Unfortunately, their amicable chat fast turned to the dreaded investigation.

"They just made me feel like it was all my fault. It was so intense, I felt like I was being accused." Sam explained as they approached the door to their room.

"Dad says that if this investigation recommends an inquest into the crash, it could go on for months." Scott sighed as he fished the swipe card out of his pocket. "Do you think they will?"

Sam shrugged, leaning against the doorframe whilst Scott swiped the key. "I don't know. I don't see how, I mean it was an accident. Then again, if my interview was anything to go by…" He trailed off shrugging again and following Scott as he walked into the lamp lit room. "They might do."

"I don't know how Alan would cope if they did." Scott said sadly.

"He's doing okay Scott." Sam smiled. "He's got a very supportive family, he'd get through it." Scott shrugged, showing his doubt. Suddenly, he came to a stop. "What?" Sam asked from behind him.

"Shh." Scott smiled, he gestured to where his father and Virgil both slept peacefully. "It seems a shame to wake him." Scott commented as he approached his father, reaching a hand out to his back. "Dad." He called softly. "Dad." He shook his father slightly. "Dad, wake up."

"Oh sorry son." Jeff groaned as he rubbed at his eyes sitting up. "I must've nodded off." He smiled across to Sam. "What time is it?" He asked quietly.

Sam glanced at his watch. "Nearly quarter passed ten." He said softly.

Jeff yawned. "Passed my bed time then." He smiled, getting to his feet and stretching. "How's Alan?"

Scott and Sam looked at each other before Scott replied. "Moody." He frowned. "Gordon's talking to him."

Jeff nodded. "I guess I should leave it a while before I check in on him then."

Scott shrugged. "Well, John said he'd keep an eye on them Dad, and you look tired. Why don't you just go to bed? You can talk to him tomorrow."

Jeff yawned again. "Hmm, yes. You're right Scott; I think I will go to bed. I am going to talk to him tomorrow though."

"We left the pizza we saved you in their room." Sam suddenly remembered.

The older man screwed his nose up. "Cold pizza?" He paused. "I'm not really that hungry; I think I'll save myself for breakfast."

Scott and Sam exchanged grins.

"He okay?" Scott gestured to his brother as he shook his head, still smiling.

Jeff nodded. "He's fine. We did come to a compromise though; that if he isn't feeling any better by morning, I'd give Charlie Gore a call.

Scott raised his eyebrows in admiration as his father yawned again. "Well done, that's more than I could get out of him. You should go to bed, come on."

They continued to talk softly as Scott lead him to the door, whilst Sam attempted to move the chair that sat in between the two beds. Inadvertently, as he turned round, one of the legs caught the lamp and it tumbled to the floor with a crash. Wincing at the loud noise Sam cringed, looking up he was unsurprised to see Virgil staring back at him.

"Sorry." He flinched. "Didn't mean to wake you."

Virgil shook his head brushing off the apology. "How's Alan?" He asked faintly before clearing his throat.

Sam put the chair down and perched on the bed alongside his friend. "He's a bit upset about these interviews but he'll be fine; Gordon's talking to him." He paused, assessing if his friend was up to a conversation and apparently deciding he was. "Your family never ceases to amaze me." He told Virgil with a shake of his head. "They've all been great. You're really lucky y'know that?" He paused. "I wish I had a family like them, so supportive and caring…" He trailed off, looking down at Virgil deliberately. "Do you know what I would give to have a father like yours or a brother like John or Gordon? Or how much I wish the relationship I have with my brother was like you have with Scott?"

Virgil suddenly felt guilt circle in the pit of his stomach. His relationship with Scott was one of the things at the foremost of his thinking at the moment.

"Sorry." Sam shook his head, his friend's tortured expression not going without notice. "I'm just jealous, you're lucky."

"I know." Virgil replied meekly. "How did your interview go?"

"Well," Sam sighed. "I'm not allowed to discuss it with you but hell wouldn't be far off. That woman; she's got this way of putting things that makes you feel as if you've committed a crime or something. She's intimidating and she twists everything. It's not nice. You don't go anywhere near that place until you're ready." He ordered as he sighed. "Stressful would be the understatement of the century."

"You okay?" Virgil asked, concerned.

"Ah yeah." Sam smiled. "I guess we've all got to wait until Wednesday anyway. We won't know anything until then. There's no point getting stressed about it. Right?"

Virgil smiled a reply. "Right, but I know you Sam; you're stressed."

The blonde man shrugged. "I just keep thinking about the 'what ifs' and I know deep down that it doesn't matter now. That it's happened, but I can't stop myself. I'm not going to until I know the reason why Mark Jamison died."

"And on Wednesday, they'll confirm what you and the first steward on the scene said; that it was a fault with the car. We both know that's why Alan's car spun." Virgil said confidently. "And we both know it wasn't a fault you or I could have done anything about." Virgil watched his mechanic friend as he shrugged again.

"We'll see if you're so confident after you're interview, or should I say interrogation." Sam smiled but it failed to reach his eyes. "I guess we'll find out on Wednesday huh?"

Virgil nodded. "It wasn't your fault and it wasn't Al's fault. It was an accident." He told Sam firmly, his voice steady and supportive.

Sam decided it was time to change the subject and smiled up to his friend. "Anyway, how are you feeling?"

Virgil groaned painfully. "About ready to jump out of this bed, bruises or no bruises and flatten the next person that asks me that." He grinned jovially but narrowed his eyes.

Sam laughed. "I'd like to see you try buddy!"

"Hey, you're up." Scott smiled as he came round to Virgil's other side. "How are you feeling?"

For a few moments, after the words were spoken, there was just silence. Then as Virgil turned to Sam rolling his eyes, they both burst out laughing.

"Oh don't." Virgil grabbed his injured ribs. "Don't make me laugh, it hurts." He pleaded to his friend as Sam continued to laugh loudly at Scott's confused expression.

"What?" The elder brother was asking. "What is it? What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Sam shook his head. "Nothing." He repeated as he struggled to control his laughing.

"Sorry." Virgil apologised to his brother. "Don't ask." He grinned in return to Scott's questioning stare. "Just don't ask." He smiled.

Confused and to a certain extent bemused. Scott sat back and watched as both Virgil and Sam transcended into fits of laughter again. Despite the fact that he was marginally concerned at the way his brother grasped his ribs and begged for mercy. And more than a little irritated by the lack of forthcoming, both of them exhibited, in telling him what the joke was. He had to admit he was pleased to see his brother truly smile and found himself grinning merely at the fact they were both laughing so uncontrollably.

XxxxX

Alan watched from the doorway as a chilly breeze ambled through the door. His thin shirt fluttered occasionally and his hair flickered against the soft wind. He took a few quiet steps out onto the balcony from his silent observation point. His bare feet made no sound on the concrete floor as he approached the object of his studying. He glanced up to the bright morning sun, promising a calm day and completely contrasting the storm they'd suffered the night before.

He wondered briefly if the other storm he'd encountered would be as calm today; Gordon.

"Hey, morning." He greeted softy, a certain amount of uncertainty in his voice as he leant up against the railing alongside his brother. Adopting the same pose, he linked one ankle round the other and leant forward on his forearms. Looking out to where his brother's gaze stared.

When Gordon didn't acknowledge his presence he knew he was in for a rough ride and suddenly felt so foolish. He had spent a long time convincing his family that he wasn't a child anymore and being the youngest, it had been a difficult task. It still was. However, here he stood, side by side with the one person who had never needed any convincing. And, it had been Gordon who had been on the receiving end of his childish and irrational outburst last night. He swallowed nervously. To him, it seemed loud, louder perhaps than the dull thud of his own heartbeat in his ears.

"I err…" He sighed uncomfortably. "I made you a coffee." He gestured to the two cups of coffee sat on the wooden table, still steaming.

"I've got one." Gordon replied, tonelessly. He made no attempt to face his brother and instead continued to gaze out across the city.

"Oh … Right." Alan swallowed again, looking away. An uncomfortable silence settled over them for a while and whilst Alan thought furiously to break it, Gordon just stared ahead. "Erm…" Alan sighed. "About last night." He paused. "I said some things I didn't mean, I'm sorry."

For a long time Gordon still made no attempt to move. "Yeah." He sighed eventually with a shake of the head. Turning away from his younger brother, he began walking back into the room. Alan's hand reaching out to his arm stopped him. He looked down at the obstruction in disgust before tracing the arm back to its owner and staring hard at his brother.

"I'm trying to apologise here." Alan said with a frown, he let his grip go and Gordon faced him.

"I heard." The copper haired young man replied. "So what? You thought you'd apologise and everything would be okay." He paused when it became evident that Alan did think that, shaking his head he sighed. "You're not a kid anymore Alan, you're the one who keeps reminding us of that. You're an adult so start acting like one. You can't seriously think that one little word takes back all those things you said. You really hurt me last night."

"I know that and I know you were only trying to help me." Alan replied, looking to the floor awkwardly. "I'm sorry, truly I am."

Gordon smiled tightly. "Good." He replied.

Another silence followed. The impact of his words and the damage his outburst had done, was finally beginning to sink in to Alan in the cold light of day.

"Can we talk?" He asked timidly, experiencing one of the few occasions in his life when he couldn't predict Gordon's reply. He was unsure he really wanted to be standing where he was when that reply came.

"Find some other mug." Gordon said flatly. "I'm going swimming."

Alan felt himself starting to panic as the sheer force of the wall of hurt he had placed between Gordon and himself. His inability to penetrate it successfully was terrifying him. He felt his world spin as he desperately searched his mind for something that could somehow rectify the situation. His guilt ridden thoughts couldn't help him.

"Gordon wait!" He called. "I … I'll come with you." He breathing quickened as he could only stand there and watch helplessly as the situation spun hopelessly out of his control.

"No!" Gordon returned quickly. "You can't swim in that condition." He gestured to Alan's shoulder and it was obvious that he was using the injuries to his advantage. "Not the kind of swimming I need to do anyway." He added deliberately before turning back. He walked back into the room, grasping a small sports bag and continued straight out the door. Shrugging off John's hand on his shoulder he stormed through the room, leaving one devastated Alan Tracy in his wake.

"I take it from that, last night's chat didn't go too well?" Alan's attempt to follow his aquanaut brother where thwarted by the imposing figure of his other brother stood in the doorway.

"John." Alan sighed, sitting down and allowing his head to fall into his hand. "John, I've been such an idiot." John plopped down beside him, as he ran trembling fingers through his hair. "What have I done?" He whispered.

"I don't know Al, what have you done?" John asked.

Alan shook his head in despair. "I can't believe I've been so stupid, so … so selfish." He cursed himself, continuing to shake his head in dismay. Suddenly he stopped and looked to John with hopeful eyes, wide with optimism. "You have to help me John, you have to, please."

"Of course I'll help you." John told him. "But first you'd better tell me what happened last night."

Alan looked up sheepishly. To begin with, he was nervous to admit to his older brother just how heartless he'd been. Realising that he needed John's help if he was ever going to gain Gordon's forgiveness, he sighed. He slowly recounted the tale, wincing with every surprised and disgusted expression John allowed to show. As he repeated the exact words he had to wonder if, even with John's help, he could make this right.

XxxxX

Scott overlooked the city, coffee in hand he marvelled at the sky. Perfectly clear, no hint of the storm that had raged the night before making ideal weather for flying, he mused.

"I know what you're thinking." He was startled to find Virgil stood beside him. "You never cease to amaze me you know that?" He paused to shake his head and smirk. "You fly planes for a career and even when you're on vacation, you still want to be up there."

Scott had to smirk. "You know me too well." He told his brother. "I was just thinking …"

"How tempting those clear blue skies are?" Virgil finished for him, an amused smirk still lingering on his lips.

"What can I say?" Scott grinned. "I'm a pilot, it's in my blood." He paused to watch Virgil lean against the wall and stare out over the city too. "So," He said casually. "You know what I'm thinking, what are you thinking?" He narrowed his eyes.

Virgil smiled. "That I should thank you for your help this morning..."

"You don't have to do that." Scott interrupted him; he was secretly pleased that Virgil had accepted the help he'd offered that morning. It would seem the chat he'd had with his brother yesterday did have some effect after all.

"Yeah I do." Virgil sighed, screwing his face up a little. Not unnoticed by Scott.

"Pain?" Scott asked, concern emanating.

"Yeah, a little." Virgil told his brother, shrugging slightly. "I'll take some more pills with breakfast, it'll be fine." The off hand tone, did nothing to reassure the anxiousness in Scott's pose. "Stop fussing Scott. It'll be fine." Virgil added, more abruptly than he'd intended to.

"Hmm." Scott sighed. He glanced across to his brother at the sharp tone but didn't comment. Instead, ignoring Virgil's irritability. "Take it easy today. Don't push yourself." He raised an eyebrow to instil the gravity of the comment in to his brother.

"Stop it, Scott." Virgil replied, in that same abrupt tone. "Look, I learnt my lesson yesterday." He paused watching Scott's expression for a few minutes. "I am going to go down and talk to the investigators today though." He said lightly after a short pause.

"I'll take you later." Scott offered, finishing off the coffee in his hands. He bit back any irritation he felt at his brother's ill temper and put the outburst down to the discomfort he knew Virgil would be feeling.

"Actually," Virgil said. "Dad said he'd take me." He could see Scott instantly disliked the idea. "I'll be fine Scott; I'll take it easy. Dad's not going to let me overdo it."

"Are you sure you're ready? You don't have to talk to them until you feel up to it." Scott frowned.

"I want to get it done and out of the way. I'm fine." Virgil frowned too. "I know my limits Scott and after yesterday, I'm not likely to be doing any bungee jumps. Trust me."

"You know I trust you, with my life." Virgil smiled at the comment. The abundance of trust Scott placed in him when he often confided in him, was a fact he was immensely proud of. "It's your judgement when you're sick that I don't trust. You think you can just carry on as normal when you can't, you have to make allowances."

"Okay, okay!" Virgil growled. "I get the point, stop going on, will you? I'll make allowances. I promise, but spare me the lecture." Scott wasn't sure whether that last comment was supposed to be a joke but he remained deadly serious.

"Maybe you need the lecture. It's not funny Virg, I'm worried about you." He said seriously.

"I know." Virgil sighed again, grimacing this time. "But you shouldn't be. I've told you a hundred times; I feel fine."

"Dad's worried about you." Scott continued, adding a serious frown.

"Dad's worried about you too." Virgil was quick to point out.

Scott stopped, his mouth half open intent on replying. Instead, he turned to his brother, his frown deepening. "Me?" He questioned.

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, you." He paused. "We need to talk." A gentle sigh escaped his lips before he continued. "I told him we would."

Scott seemed surprised by the revelation. "Hmm, yeah." He said distractedly. "Me too."

Virgil braced himself to take in a deep breath. "I feel as if maybe we should." He suggested softly. "You think?"

"Should what?" Scott asked, mystified.

Virgil shrugged awkwardly. "Talk." He practically whispered.

"What?" Scott said leaning in, not hearing him the first time.

"Nothing." Virgil sighed. He shook his head, trying to forget the idea.

Scott watched his brother fiddle nervously, bemused by Virgil's hesitant behaviour. A few moments of silence dragged by. "It's weird how everyone's changed." Scott mused suddenly. "Some things don't change though. I mean; you and me. We haven't changed that much, have we?" He glanced across at his brother. Though he'd like to think otherwise, they'd changed just as much as the others had. They'd grown up, and apart. He felt the need to reassure himself. "You can still talk to me. You know that don't you?" He smiled when Virgil nodded vaguely. "Whenever you're ready."

"Scott, you have to understand; this isn't something you can fix." Virgil replied softly. "We're not kids any more. None of us, not even Alan, really." He shook his head. "You can't make this okay."

"I know that." Scott became defensive.

"What I'm trying to say is that…" He waved his hands in the air. "It doesn't matter."

"No, go on." Scott frowned. "What are you trying to say?"

"Forget it." Virgil could tell from his tone of voice alone that this wouldn't end well.

"No, come on. Tell me. What were you going to say?" Scott pushed, becoming irritable himself.

Virgil sighed. "Scott, stop worrying about me and just give me some space. That' all." He replied eventually.

"Space?" Scott replied. "Why? Didn't you get enough of that yesterday morning?" He retorted. "Is there any wonder I worry when…"

"Hey guys!" Sam called, appearing in the doorway. Apparently not realising he'd just interrupted something. "Alan and John are here. Are we going down to breakfast of what? Because I'm starving!" He smiled as he turned back into the room, presuming the two elder brothers would follow.

"This isn't finished." Scott walked away and with a soft sigh, Virgil followed. "Come on."

"Virg! Hey!" Alan smiled at his older brother widely. "You look …" He trailed off, his smile beaming bright white teeth.

"What?" Virgil asked suspiciously. "The last time you grinned at me like that I had oil smeared all over my face."

The younger blonde smiled again. "Nothing, just you look better." Alan shrugged as Sam joined them. John however held back, waiting for Scott.

"How you doing?" Virgil asked as they began slowly walking towards the reception area and the lifts.

"Okay, ribs hurt; they're a bit bruised but not as bad as yours." He added guiltily looking to the floor. "Shoulder's still a bit sore, but I'm okay." He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes that Virgil couldn't explain.

"Good." He smiled, glancing back to Scott and John walking behind them before looking across to Sam and exchanging a concerned, fleeting look. "What's up Al?" Virgil asked eventually. "You seem a bit down."

"It's nothing." Alan sighed, shaking his head as they came to a stop to wait for the lift. "I just, I wanted to talk to you about something, both of you." He looked across to Sam and sighed again, before looking up suddenly as Scott and John neared them.

XxxxX

"We need to have a little chat." John was saying quietly as they walked towards the reception area.

Scott looked up surprised by the secrecy and meaningful looks John was passing his way. He frowned. "A chat?" He smirked. "You sound like Dad. What's up?"

"Gordon and Alan's little talk last night didn't go so well." John continued to speak quietly to his older brother, watching as Scott turned to Alan.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked, frowning now and speaking equally cautiously.

"Later." John told Scott as they approached Sam, Virgil and Alan. "Sorry guys." He apologised.

"And I thought I was slow." Virgil joked, referring to the small yet tender steps he'd taken.

"You take your time; we don't want you overdoing it." Scott said, pointedly raising an eyebrow at his chestnut haired brother as the lift pinged and they stepped inside one of the carriages.

Unsurprisingly to Scott their father was already sat at one of the larger tables in the small private dinning room. Glasses perched on the edge of his nose and head and shoulders obscured by a broad sheet newspaper. As they took their seats, Scott made sure to select a seat next to John and subconsciously watched Virgil lower himself delicately into one of the ornate chairs. It was becoming blindingly obvious to Scott that his brother's pain was only increasing.

"Morning Boys!" Jeff smiled as he collapsed his glasses and placed them in the top pocket of his shirt. He glanced around the table before folding the newspaper neatly and placing it on the edge. Looking at his watch purposely.

Scott found himself doing the same thing, realising that they were late. "Sorry we're late Dad." He apologised dutifully, as a waitress walked round the table pouring coffee or tea into every cup.

Jeff nodded his acceptance, glancing once more, around the table. "Where's Gordon?"

Jeff watched Alan immediately dip his head and frowned. He looked across at John as the older blonde explained. "Oh, he's err … he's gone swimming." Virgil looked to Scott for an answer but the older brother only shrugged as he and John exchanged suspicious, querying glances once more. The conversation continued. "Later." John whispered to his older brother.

"We can go straight after breakfast if you like Virgil?" Jeff was saying as Scott returned to the conversation around him, a wary eye still on Alan.

"Yeah, that'd be fine Dad." Virgil smiled tightly and Scott found his gaze resting solely on his injured brother again.

"Good, good." Jeff enthused. "Oh!" He exclaimed. "I had a call from the Investigation Team last night; they left a message saying they were trying to get hold of you Alan. Did they call?"

Alan shrugged. "Probably, I haven't checked my messages yet."

"Well I gave them a call back this morning and they told me the car can be picked up this afternoon. They've finished with it for now." Jeff smiled. "I thought you and Sam might like to go whilst I take Virgil for his interview."

"Is the artic still in the paddock?" Alan asked, leaning to one side as a bowl was placed in front of him.

Jeff nodded. "I think so, that's where we left it on Saturday."

"We'll get it loaded up and ready to go." Sam said as he raised his spoon to his lips.

"It's a shame that Trans Atlantic Shuttle crossing isn't going to be finished for another three years." John mused. "That would have saved you a lot of travelling time. It's a pioneering thought, I'm surprised you weren't more involved with it Dad." John commented. "It'd certainly save on travelling expenses between Europe and the States. And it'd make it easier to take a car."

"It's still in the early stages though John." Jeff replied, sipping at his coffee. "The construction will be a big job. I mean look how long it took to build the Eurotunnel. And we're talking the length of the Atlantic Ocean here. Besides, they'd have to build over the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. There's too much tectonic movement in that area for it to be stable enough for this kind of project. It's a recipe for disaster, if you ask me." He concluded.

John was nodding in agreement. "I know what you mean father. But it'll be cheaper than flying and for some people; it's worth that risk."

"It'll be another example of mankind putting engineering before nature, and their own intelligence." Jeff said grimly. "Believe me, it'll end in tears."

"Anyway…" Sam shrugged, tucking into the food and attempting to turn the subject to something he understood. "What happens when we get the car back?" He asked.

"Well, Ferrari US are going to do all the work it needs. If Alan wants it to be ready for Belleview we need to get it to Detroit as soon as possible so as they can make a start." Jeff was saying as he lifted his cup of coffee to his lips again. Virgil watched as Alan took in a deep breath and kept his head down. Suspicious of his brother's surreptitious behaviour he glanced across at Sam who had obviously also noticed.

"Excuse me, Mr Tracy." A suit-clad man with a clipboard approached them. "There's an urgent call for you at the main reception area." He leaned in to talk to Jeff in a sensitive manner.

"Urgent?" Jeff asked. "Did they say who it was?"

"No Sir, just that they were calling from Tracy Enterprises, Special Projects branch." The man seemed to pause for a few moments, awaiting further instruction from Jeff.

"I'll take it in my room, thank you." The clipboard man disappeared as Jeff removed his napkin and delicately dabbed his mouth. "I'm sorry boys; you'll have to excuse me. I need to take this call but carry on, I won't be long."

Several nods were his only acknowledgement as he stepped away from the table and continued out of the room.

Virgil nudged the young blonde sat next to him. "What is it?" He asked quietly, realising that Sam too was looking at his youngest brother. Scott and John engaged themselves in their own hushed conversation.

Alan sighed. "Belleview; that's what I wanted to talk to you about." He paused, looking up to both of them. "I don't think I'm going to race Belleview." He said uncertainly.

"Al, if you want the car to be ready for then, it will be." Sam said confidently. "We'll take a look at it when we pick it up. From what I saw before, a large amount of the damage is cosmetic. We'll have it fixed before you know it."

Alan sighed. "Actually, I'm thinking of selling the GX10."

"Selling it. Why?" Virgil frowned. "I know it's not run very well so far but things can't get much worse."

"You can say that again." Alan said sadly, Virgil winced at the comment. "It's just nothing's gone right with it all season. I think I'd be better cutting my losses and selling it off." He paused. "It wouldn't be too difficult to take out the roll cage and restore it to road safety standards, would it Sam?"

"Well, no." The mechanic told him, shocked. "And it's more likely to sell as an antique road car but …" He trailed off. "Al, Virgil and I have spent months getting it ready to race. That's a lot of work to undo or just sell on."

Alan hung his head again. "I know and I appreciate what you guys have done to help me, you know that."

"Are you asking our opinion here, or telling us?" Sam asked, suddenly frowning. "Because it sounds to me like you've already made your mind up."

"The car's not financially viable. I've paid out more on fixing it than I did to buy it in the first place." Alan shrugged. "This time I just don't think it's worth it. If I can get a good price for it I think I'd be better off selling."

"You've never worried about whether the car's financially viable or not before." Sam shook his head. "Why the sudden change?"

"I never worried about it before because Dad's always helped me out with the cars. I can't expect him to keep doing that, it's unfair. I'm an adult now and I shouldn't rely on him financially." Alan sighed. "I'm going to sell it."

Virgil raised his eyebrows at Sam in complete and utter shock at the last statement. It was completely unlike Alan to think of anyone else except for himself, especially when it came to money and deep down Virgil knew it was a cover.

"What will you get instead?" Virgil inquired, glancing at Sam. The question was purposely phrased; Virgil knew exactly what his brother was doing.

Alan shrugged. "I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, I can't see you racing your precious Porsche Atlas K3 round a track like that." Virgil watched his brother as Alan avoided meeting his gaze. "What would you race?"

Alan shrugged again. "I don't know; maybe take a break for a while."

"A break?" Sam frowned. "Kenny's going to have a fit! Alan you're never going to make it to the big time if you take a break now. You're doing really well."

Virgil smirked sadly, as he shook his head. "This isn't about the car is it?" He looked up at Alan. "It's about you Al. You don't want to race, do you?"

"Can you blame me?" Alan leant forward, checking Scott and John spoke silently to themselves.

Virgil winced as he leant on the table, relieving some of the pressure on his ribs. "Al, it was an accident. Accident's happen, it wasn't your fault."

"That's not what the Crash Investigation Team seems to think." Alan pouted, sitting back in his chair stubbornly as a waiter removed their used dishes and another course followed.

"I don't give a damn what the Crash Investigation Team think." Virgil hissed, drawing surprised gazes from both Alan and Sam at just how harsh his tone was. "Look at me Alan." He ordered. The younger man swallowed before complying and meeting his brother's gaze. Virgil softened slightly. "They weren't in that car okay? I … I was, and I know…" He emphasised the word. "…that it wasn't your fault." Virgil sighed slightly. "Just … just give it some time okay? Don't rush into anything; see how you feel when it's been repaired. If you still want to get rid, we'll do anything we can to help and so will Kenny. Isn't that right Sam?"

"Of course we will." The mechanic nodded. "He's right." He nodded at Virgil. "Always is. Wise beyond his years." He paused, leaning in to Alan. "Annoying though, isn't it?"

Alan smiled as Virgil nodded approvingly; glancing up worriedly at Sam. Wondering if Alan's promising career and the talent he had shown on the racetrack were now only a distant memory.

XxxxX

"Stop it." John hissed to his older brother, sat alongside him.

Scott turned his gaze to his brother from where he stared at Virgil aimlessly pushing food around his plate. He glanced across at where the others where talking urgently amongst themselves as he did. "What?" He asked innocently.

"Stop staring at him, you'll turn him to stone." John sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"What are you talking about?" Scott feigned ignorance as he faced his blonde brother.

"Don't give me that!" John shook his head again as he continued their hushed conversation. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. He's not going anywhere Scott." John paused, to put down his fork and glancing up at where Virgil spoke quietly to Alan. "Look, I know you're worried…"

"He's hardly eaten anything." Scott commented, not listening to John.

"Scott, stop." John waited for his brother to look at him. "I don't think I could eat anything if you were watching my every move like you're watching his." He whispered.

"I'm not watching his every move." Scott defended as quietly as he could. John just raised a questioning eyebrow silently and Scott felt the need to defend himself further. "I'm not! I just want to make sure he eats a proper meal. He's spent the entire time pushing food around his plate." Scott whispered back in a harassed manner as he glared at John and took in a deep breath.

"Have you talked to him yet?" John asked, continuing to eat. Only hesitating when Scott turned to stare at him, wide eyed. His hand halted, food half way to his mouth. "What?"

"I told Gordon that in confidence!" Scott exclaimed angrily. "The little … What exactly has he been saying?"

John sighed, lowering the fork. "Gordon didn't say anything; he didn't have to. Scott, has it not occurred to you that I've been around you and Dad long enough to become fluent in this silent language you and he speak?" Scott frowned clearly confused by the comment. "The one where actions speak louder than words." He raised the fork again, this time making it to his mouth and chewing on it for a while before pushing it to one side. "Oh come on Scott." He swallowed. "It's obvious something's going on. The way you exploded yesterday for a start and all that 'not leaving him on his own' stuff last night." John scoffed before turning back to his breakfast. "And then there was the atmosphere this morning."

"He disappeared for nearly three hours yesterday, what did you expect me to do?" Scott's voice was getting louder and they both glanced over to where the other three still spoke quietly. Scott's vision lingered for a while.

"You're doing it again." John whispered. "You don't even know you're doing it." He smirked with disbelief. "Scott, you've been staring at him as if he was going to spontaneously combust at any second. I know you're worried about him so just talk to him, it's not like he's going shut you out." John smirked at the absurdity of the suggestion but Scott looked gravely at the table. "And whilst we're on the subject of talking …" He trailed off as he turned to Scott's sombre expression. "What?"

"Nothing, you're right." Scott hung his head and went about pushing around his own food miserably. "I'll talk to him." He said softly, glancing once more across at Virgil.

"About what I was saying this morning." John carried on. "Alan really screwed up last night with Gordon."

"Hmm, what?" Scott was frowning at him, distracted again.

"Alan and Gordon, their little talk last night didn't exactly go to plan." John paused. "Alan said some things he didn't mean. When he tried to apologise this morning, Gordon stormed off. Hence, his absence this morning."

Scott nodded, unconcerned. "And? They argue all the time; it means nothing. Tell Alan to leave Gordon a while and then apologise again. It'll be fine, let him swim it out."

"I don't think so Scott." John confided. "He said some nasty things, personal things. Gordon was pretty upset this morning. I need your help; I thought maybe you could have a word with Alan whilst I go find Gordy."

Scott frowned. "What exactly did he say to upset Gordon so much?" John repeated what Alan had told him. Causing Scott to let out a heartfelt sigh and glance down the table at his brother. "Stupid kid!" Scott cursed. "Okay, I'll talk to him."

He found his gaze drawn back to Virgil again. Only this time, his brother looked up at him with an irritated expression revealing exactly what he thought. Scott smiled apologetically and turned his attention back to the meal in front of him.

"Seems like I'm not the only one fluent in your silent language Scott." John muttered as his brother glared at him.


	12. Reconciliation

Authors Note: Many thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. All reviews are appreciated so please continue to let me know your thoughts on each chapter.

Apologies for this chapter being so late in coming. I'm afraid, due to other commitments; this may well be the situation in the future. Chapters are pending, just not necessarily as swiftly.

Chapter Twelve – Reconciliation

Gordon pushed himself harder and harder. His concentration was so deep he wasn't entirely sure where the pair of legs that dangled in front of him now, had come from. He came to a stop, resting his arms on the side of the indoor pool and lifting up his goggles. His exertion left him panted for breath and he looked up, unsurprised to see John wiggling his toes in the glistening water.

"I thought Scott would have sent Virgil." Gordon commented as he vaulted from the pool. Slopping water over his brother, before sitting alongside him. Wiping the wet from his face, he allowed his legs to dangle alongside his brothers. "He usually picks the pieces up. Still a change is as good as a rest." Gordon sighed cynically as he continued.

"He didn't mean it." John said simply.

"You came down here to tell me that?" Gordon laughed. "Virgil usually starts off with something profound. You know deep and meaningful, 'You're brothers, no matter what happens you'll always love each other.' Yeah, try that." He nodded.

"Gordy, this isn't funny." John chided.

"I'm not joking." He said seriously. "You're wasting your time John. I'm angry with him and I intend to stay that way."

"Why?" The older brother asked. "Don't you think that's a little childish?"

"Why?" Gordon asked, scoffing incredulously. "Because he deserves it! Did he tell you what he said?" John nodded regretfully and his brother continued. "I've got every right to be angry." Gordon frowned. "Do you honestly think that knowing he didn't mean it makes it hurt any less?"

"No, of course not." John told him. "But it should make it easier to forgive him." He paused. "Words are the most powerful thing we have; they have the potential for anything. And once something's said it can't be taken back."

Gordon nodded, becoming cynical again. "That's sounds more like something Virgil would say. Go on."

"I'm being serious Gordon. Words have the potential to bring so much pleasure and beauty. Because they have the potential to do that, they have to have the potential to do the opposite; demolition and hurt." John sighed. "You can't sit there and tell me you've never said things you wished you hadn't. Gordy, staying angry with him isn't going to get you anywhere. Anger's just destructive."

Gordon raised his eyebrow, chewing on his bottom lip and nodding slightly as if mulling the idea over exaggeratedly. "Very deep and meaningful." He said, sarcastically nodding his approval. "Very Virgil." He grinned. "But he's told me all that …" He adopted a deeper voice in an impersonation of his older brother. "'Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to the dark side' stuff. Try something else." Gordon said lightly. He was a little too off hand for John's liking.

"Okay," John sighed, trying to contain his rising irritation. "How about this one; the capacity to forgive is rarely used because anger's the easier option. But it's the capacity to forgive that enables you to become a better person."

Gordon sighed, stroking at his chin pensively. "Yep, that's a new one." He paused. "I like it though!" He grinned.

"Can you just be serious for one minute? Please?" John muttered agitatedly. "I know your upset and I know Alan's not your favourite person right now. Gords, you can't stay angry with him forever. He's been through a lot just recently. And forgive me for pointing this out, but you were the one who ignored his attempts at an apology and stormed off this morning."

Gordon shrugged, water still dripping over his chest and down his back from his hair. "I know." He said unhappily. "And I know I was wrong to do that; I shouldn't have stormed off. I just feel so angry John." He balled his fists up, struggling for words to explain his anger and settling for the aggressive action. "He knew how worried I was about this command post." Gordon shook his head sadly. "I confided in him, and he just threw it back in my face."

John placed an arm around his shoulders at the desolate tone. He felt the water left on Gordon's skin beginning to sink into the material of his shirt making it clammy. He screwed his face up a little but decided it was more important that his younger brother felt comforted.

"I know this isn't any consolation right now but it's been a tough weekend. Not just Al and Virg, all of us. It's been hard, we've all been stressed out and emotions are running high." John paused. "No one really knows what's going on in Alan's head at the minute. He's not thinking straight and he needs a little guidance. You're the only one that's going to get close enough to give that guidance; he won't talk to Dad or Scott."

"You think I should talk to him." Gordon said lowly. It wasn't a question but a statement of John's opinion. He began shaking his head slowly. "I can't pretend that him saying one little word takes back everything he said, and that it's okay." He paused, sighing sadly. "I know he's had it tough and I appreciate that, but it's not okay."

John felt he should say something and vigorously thought for something else. Anything that would help to convince Gordon. Unfortunately, nothing sprung to mind and the silence was filled as Gordon leant forward. Hands on his knees, he let out an anguished sigh before running a hand over his wet hair and face.

"I just need to let off a bit of steam John; I'll talk to him later." It was unlike Gordon to seem so down, and John wasn't prepared to leave him to wallow in his misery. "I'll just do a few more lengths."

"How many have you done? You've been down here hours." John asked. Gordon found himself on the end of a concerned stare.

The redhead shrugged, his hair plastered to his head with the water. "Don't know. I lost count after about three hundred. I haven't really been concentrating. Mind's been somewhere else, y'know?" He said softly.

"Why don't you go and talk to him now?" John suggested. "Get it done and out the way. It'll clear the air, and you'll feel better too."

"Look John, you've done your bit. I'll talk to him, I promise you." Gordon said sincerely. He pushed himself back into the pool with a graceful plop, swiping a hand over the water that splashed him. "You're no Virgil, but you've succeeded. I'll just swim a few more lengths and then I'll go up and talk to him. I don't know what I'll say..." He mused. "But I will talk to him."

"Why not now?" John asked.

"Don't push it John." Gordon said edgily. He placed his goggles over his eyes adjusting them until they were comfortable.

"Okay." John sighed. "Okay, then I'll wait here until you've finished." He smiled at his younger brother who frowned up at him.

"You're going to sit there and watch me swim?" Gordon asked incredulously.

John continued to smile down at him, leaning back. "Yep." He nodded.

"Okay, okay!" Gordon vaulted back out of the pool. "Give me a few minutes to get a shower. I'll go now."

John smiled, gleefully with the achievement. "Good."

Gordon got to his feet; removing his goggles. He placed a hand on John's shoulder as he made his way to the showers. "Thanks." He said softly, smirking as his brother shrugged off the wet hand uncomfortably.

"Hey watch it!" John brushed the shoulder of his shirt. "You're wet." He glared, shaking his head at his brother, watching him as he retreated to the showers. He hoped Scott was having the same success.

XxxxX

Alan sighed as he kicked the door shut behind him. His eyes widened as he took in the rooms current occupant. "Scott!" He exclaimed, surprised to see his older brother sat on one of the beds. "What are you doing in here?"

Scott ignored the question. "Car loaded up?"

"Yeah." Alan nodded. "Took a while." He shook his head. "Sam says a lot of the damage is cosmetic but …" He wriggled, shivering. "To be honest, it gives me the creeps just seeing it." He paused, looking up at Scott. "He's just gone up to your room actually; he was looking for you."

"Well, I've been looking for you." Scott said slowly, gesturing for Alan to sit down alongside him.

"What? Is Virgil okay?" Alan asked worriedly. "Is it the interview?"

"Virgil's fine." Scott paused. Waiting until Alan looked directly up at him before continuing. "John told me."

"Gordon." Alan sighed, pausing for a while. He swallowed. "I can't believe I said it." He shook his head desolately. "Any of it, I didn't mean it Scott. I swear, it just came out."

"We all say things we don't mean sometimes Al." Scott sighed, watching his brother closely. "Gordy just needs some time to cool off, that's all."

"No." Alan shook his head. "I really hurt him this time Scott. Those things I said, they were unforgivable."

"You were upset, he'll understand that." Scott tried to comfort him, but Alan just shrugged him off.

"Like he understood this morning?" Alan screwed his face up, shaking his head. "He couldn't even look at me, he hates me and who can blame him. He confided in me, trusted me and look what I did!"

"He doesn't hate you Al. He's your brother and he loves you." Scott squeezed his uninjured shoulder lightly. "That's why he wants to help you. That's all Gordon was trying to do."

"I know that." Alan let out a deep breath. "I know what I did last night was immature and stupid and inexcusable. I just want the chance to make it right." Alan paused, watching Scott's reaction to his words. "He just made me feel so pressurised. As if I was trapped and I had to talk to him, when I didn't want to. I just wanted some time on my own. The interview was pretty tough; I think I just needed some time to process what had happened. I was so angry with myself, and with everyone else, I guess. I never meant to hurt him. But I can feel him watching me, worrying about me and I can't get away from it. Wherever I go, whatever I do he's there fussing over me and I can't cope with it." Alan paused again, taking a breath. "It's not just Gordon, it's everyone."

"I know." Scott sighed placed an arm round him. He suddenly wondered if that was how Virgil felt about him; if he felt trapped and pressurised. "I know." He repeated with a frown. "It's hard for us too; we don't mean to make you feel smothered. We're all worried about you Al, Gordon especially."

"I suppose me acting like I did last night, justifies all you guys treating me like a kid." Alan sighed mournfully. "I know I keep saying this, but I can't believe I was so stupid." He sighed again, letting his head drop to his hands. "I just wish he knew how sorry I was. That he'd listen to me." Alan bit the top of his lip and swallowed hard. "I wish I could have the chance to talk to him properly."

"Just shows you should be careful what you wish for then." Scott looked up to see Gordon and John stood in the doorway, the former taking a few steps into the room.

"Hi." Alan swallowed, smiling softly.

"Hey." Gordon replied. He seemed a little subdued as he made his way into the room.

"I've just seen Sam." John told Scott. "Virgil should be back soon, I was going to go down and meet him. Do you want to come?"

Scott nodded. "Sure." He glanced across to where Alan and Gordon stared at each other silently before getting to his feet. He followed John out of the room with a heavy sigh.

They sat in silence for a while; both nervous of the others reactions. Eventually Alan sighed and forced himself to his feet. Running a hand over his hair, he turned to face his brother swallowing nervously.

"Gordy …."

"Al…"

They both laughed uncomfortably as the words trailed off and silence descended again.

"Alan." Gordon tried again. "I'm sorry I stormed off this morning. I was angry but I shouldn't have done that. It was …. juvenile." He paused. "I'm sorry." He repeated.

"I deserved it." Alan told him sadly. "You've got nothing to be sorry for Gordon. It's all my fault, just like everything else." He shook his head, letting it drop repentantly as he leaned up against one of the cupboards. "I never meant to upset you." Alan carried on slowly and softly. "I was feeling low and I took it out on you. If there was anything I could do to take those words back, or convince you how sorry I am. I would do it in a heartbeat. Really I would, you just have to name it."

Gordon took in a deep breath; he had expected the remorse in Alan's tone. The devastation and desperation in his eyes was a little more surprising. "Did you mean it?" Gordon asked eventually, studying his brother. "Did you mean what you said?" He repeated softly. Unsure if he could accept the reply to that question.

"No!" Alan denied immediately and loudly. Looking up with wide, shocked eyes. "You … you don't think I did. Do you?" Gordon shrugged and within minutes Alan was sitting beside him, causing the bed to lurch with the sudden movement. "I didn't, I swear." His eyes dilated widely at the prospect that his brother thought otherwise. "Gordon, you have to believe me. You have to." His eyes begged his brother.

"I want to …" Gordon sighed. "Why say it, if you didn't really think it?"

"No, no." Alan shook his head. "That's the point! I wasn't thinking, I wasn't thinking at all." He swallowed back the desperation in his tone of voice. "Gordy, you've always been my best friend, for as long as I can remember. And you're the best, best friend I could ask for. I had no right to say what I did last night or to hurt you when you were only trying to help. I wish there was something else I could say, other than sorry. It's just not enough." He shrugged, shaking his head again miserably. "I've been such an idiot." He sighed, looking up at his brother. "I feel terrible Gordon, for saying those things and for hurting you like I did. For making you feel so…"

"Angry?" Gordon swallowed. "Stupid? Incompetent? Insufficient? …."

"No." Alan shook his head. "No, you're not any of those things."

Gordon shrugged, he blinked feeling his eyes starting to become hot and uncomfortable. "That's how I feel." He looked away. "Anyone else saying those things I'd have just ignored it, but you…"

"It's my fault; I made you feel like that and none of it's true." Alan sighed. "I felt so guilty; I didn't want to talk to anyone. All I wanted was to be on my own, but I had to sit there, whilst everyone stared at me as if I was some freak." He swallowed, a broken sigh blown through his trembling lips as he turned teary eyes to face his brother. "I know you were only trying to help me. I should have been grateful that you cared." His vision swam slightly as he blinked to clear his water logged eyes. "I just felt so claustrophobic. I tried so hard to deal with this but I just can't cope with it. I would never hurt you Gordon, I …" He paused awkwardly. His eyes burned as he ran a hand over his face. Breathing fast to keep his guilt at bay and desperately attempting to prevent his voice from breaking. "I'm so sorry." He breathed heavily. His face contorting, as he felt hot tears making an appearance on his cheeks. Grasping his hand over his mouth, he hurriedly got to his feet. "Sorry." He muttered as he pushed the glass doors to the balcony open in and hurried outside into the warm sun.

For a few seconds Gordon just sat and watched him go, staring after him. The glass doors swung on their hinges and the netted curtains billowed in the gentle breeze. Watching Alan's hasty exit he suddenly realised why he was so reluctant to talk to his brother. He knew that seeing his brother's remorse would soften his resolve and make him realise how much Alan needed his support now. Slowly he got to his feet and walked delicately out into the sunlight. Feeling the midday heat on his bare skin and the gentle breeze ruffle his thin shirt. He took his time, contemplating his words as he walked.

Alan stood against the wall, his elbows locked together and both hands gripped the brick firmly. Gordon didn't need to see his face to know that every muscle in his body was tensed up tighter than a spring, as he stood there. His shoulders moving rapidly in time with his speedy, deep breathing. At a loss for anything to say, Gordon just reached a hand out to his brother's shoulder and squeezed it firmly.

As a response, Alan turned to him.

"I know you're mad. You've every right to be and I don't expect you to forgive me but please Gordon. Tell me you know I didn't mean it." Alan paused. "You must know I didn't mean it." He shrugged, sniffing.

Gordon sighed, eventually nodding. "Yeah, of course I do." Alan's head snapped up, hopefully. "I trusted you with what I told you about the command. I did that because I needed your support, I needed someone to tell me that I could do it and I knew you would. You would support me and give me the confidence I needed." He paused to take in a breath and swallow.

"I know I've let you down Gordon. You don't have to tell me that." Alan looked to the floor sadly.

"Let me finish." Gordon shook his head irritably. "That's exactly what I was trying to do for you last night; support you. Do you think I didn't notice the way you hardly said a word all night? You didn't eat anything and you were in a world of your own most of the time. Those constant looks of concern, you weren't the only one to notice them. That's why I thought you might want someone to talk to, because that's the way it's always been. We've trusted each other, supported each other." Gordon paused to shake his head. "Even when we're thousands of miles, oceans even apart. You're still the first person I call when I need someone to listen to me, or I need advice." He sighed, waving his hands. "Last night, I was thinking about what you said about me being a 'fat lot of good'." He couldn't help but quote the words; they were ingrained into his memory now. "And I thought you were lashing out but then I realised. If there was a time that I hadn't been there when I should've been. I wouldn't know anyway, would I?" He grinned at his own logic before turning serious again. "Has there? Has there been a time when I've … when I've let you down?"

"No." Alan shook his head immediately. Sad that his outburst had initiated such thinking on his brother's part. "Never." Alan sighed. "Gordon, I don't know why I said what I did, but I can honestly say none of it is true."

Gordon nodded slowly, apparently satisfied with the answer. "So you just said it out of spite to hurt me?" He frowned.

"Yes!" Alan began then stopped. "No!" He sighed; Gordon's tone hadn't been angry but more inquisitive. "I don't know." He shrugged. "Maybe I wanted someone else to feel as bad as I did, I don't know."

"Well, you certainly succeeded." Gordon said softly.

"No." Alan disagreed. "All I succeeded in was making myself feel ten times worse. And driving away someone who's supported me my whole life."

Gordon shrugged, walking over to the wooden table and sitting down, stretching his legs out in front of him. He breathed in through his nose, puffing his chest out. "It's been tough hasn't it?"

Alan sat down alongside his brother with a heavy sigh and a solemn shake of the head. "That's no excuse, there is no excuse." He said desolately. "I can't believe I've been such an idiot." Alan sighed in disbelief.

"I'm still mad at you, don't get me wrong. And you've got a lot of making up to do. But you've been under a lot of stress just lately and I was wrong in walking off this morning. I should have let you talk, I just didn't trust myself." Gordon reached out a hand to his shoulder again. "Don't be too hard on yourself Al, we're both at fault here. I know it's not easy."

"I had no right to take it out on you though." Alan sighed. "Can we start again?" He asked quietly. "Pretend it never happened? I know that's a lot to ask and it's easy for me to say." Gordon watched him fiddle nervously as he carried on. "If I'd been you I would have lost it last night. I would have hit me." Alan looked up to his older brother cautiously, realising that that last sentence was a little confusing. When Gordon's response didn't come immediately, he became nervous of what was to come. The redhead let his hand drop from Alan's shoulder and sighed mournfully. "You came close didn't you?" Alan pushed on hesitantly as Gordon bowed his head regretfully.

"Like I said," Gordon studied the floor, ashamed of himself. "You're lucky you are who you are."

Alan took in a deep breath. "No one could have blamed you if you'd hit me. I mean, I deserved it after what I said, and I know you wanted to." He paused. "So why didn't you?"

Gordon shook his head but didn't raise it. "I couldn't hurt you."

"Like I did you, you mean?" Alan responded miserably.

"No, that's not what I meant at all." Gordon responded, finally looking up as a silence lingered between them. "We're not doing a very good job of pretending this didn't happen." He smiled, somewhat shakily.

"I wish you could know how sorry I was." Alan muttered quietly.

"I think I've got a good idea." Gordon sighed, he bit his lips together unsure how to go. Deciding that a change of subject was in order. He continued on a different track. "What happened yesterday?" He asked eventually, remembering John's words about guidance.

"What do you mean what happened yesterday?" Alan frowned. "I was being a jerk, just like every other day of my life." He muttered darkly.

"I meant the interview. What happened?" Gordon asked, ignoring the other comments.

"Gordy please." Alan shook his head. "I think that's caused enough damage already, I don't want to talk about it. Just leave it."

"You're right. It was you pushing me away that got us in this mess in the first place." Gordon pointed out. "Talk to me." He prompted.

"Gordon I just want to forget about it. Get the inquest out of the way and get back to Colorado." Alan sighed leaning back in his chair.

"What makes you so sure there'll be an inquest?" Gordon frowned. "The investigation might not recommend an inquest. If there's nothing suspicious and it was just an accident, which it was. Why the need for a formal inquest?"

"Gordon please…" Alan trailed off, looking up to his brother with moist eyes and a pleading expression. "I said leave it, I don't want to talk about it."

"I think I deserve to know what got you so wound up yesterday, that you felt the need to take it out on me. Don't you?" Gordon said softly, Alan just lowered his head in reply remaining mute. "Alan, I'm worried about you. I know you're not thinking straight at the minute…"

"You make it sound like I'm going out of my mind or something." Alan smirked.

"Well, what do you expect when you do stupid things like drink on top of painkillers?" Gordon responded seriously.

Alan bowed his head, sighing remorsefully. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I just forgot." He paused, realising how lame that sounded. "The bottle was just …there and I automatically…" He trailed off with a sigh. "I'm sorry, it was really stupid. I only had a couple of mouthfuls. I don't know what I was thinking."

"That's the point." Gordon replied sternly. "Neither do I. I don't know what's going through your head, so talk to me. Let me in Al, I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

Alan looked as though he was about to talk but changed his mind at the last minute. Screwing his face up, he sighed. "It doesn't matter, I've messed this up like I messed everything else up in my life."

Gordon frowned hard. He'd thought the reason for his brother's despair stemmed from their disagreement but now he saw it ran deeper than that. "That's not true. You haven't messed everything up and of course, it matters. Tell me what happened." Alan shook his head. "Al?" No answer came and he tried again. "Alan?"

Alan got to his feet, shrugging softly. "They think it's my fault."

"Did they say that?" Gordon frowned.

Alan shook his head. "They didn't have to." He began to pace the small balcony slowly. "I know that's what they thought. They're going to recommend an inquest, you wait, then they'll take my licence away and I'll be finished. Or what if they decide I was negligent?" Gordon watched him run with the ideas his overactive imagination was providing him. "I could be sued and they could bring criminal charges too, couldn't they?" He paused to shake his head; indicating his unawareness. "I think so, and then there's the guilt. I can't live with it. If they decided it was all my fault… It's bad enough that Virgil got hurt in my car, but I could never look at him again if… And what would everyone else think? Scott and Dad and …"

"Al, slow down. Did they say there was going to be an inquest?" Gordon frowned; the weight of Alan's worry was certainly a heavy burden for him to carry.

Alan shook his head, but waved his hand as if that was irrelevant. "No, but they think I'm guilty."

"Guilty of what?" Gordon raised his eyebrows, staring at his brother inquisitively.

"I don't know! Causing the accident." Alan sighed, reaching a hand up to rub his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sit down." Gordon told him firmly. "Come on, sit." He said as Alan turned to him in surprise, slowly he did as he was told. "You've got to calm down Al." He murmured, leaning across the table between them. "You know this wasn't your fault, right?" He waited for a nod of agreement but Alan sighed, shrugging.

"What if it was? What if it was my fault? What if I did put it in the wrong gear? What if I killed him?" Alan sighed brokenly, eyes burning he dropped his head to his hands. Letting his elbows rest on the table and breathing deeply.

Gordon got up and walked around to him, placing a hand on his uninjured shoulder and bending down in front of him. "Sam told me about her, the woman investigator. You're letting her get to you aren't you? You're doubting yourself because of what she said." He squeezed Alan's shoulder, as the younger man still cradled his head. "We talked about this, have some faith. I have every faith in you."

"Well maybe your faith's misplaced." Alan mumbled.

"No." Gordon shook his head in denial. "It's not. I know it's not and on Wednesday, so will you."

"You'll be there, won't you?" Alan looked up. His eyes red, glistening with unshed tears. "On Wednesday?"

Gordon sighed. Alan looked so hopeful, and it almost broke his heart to tell him the truth. "I don't know Al." He said softly.

"What?" Alan's face fell.

"I'd only got three days leave, that mean's I have to be back on base tomorrow." He watched despair smear Alan's features. "I'm sorry."

"No." Alan shook his head, tears further building. "Please Gordy, if this is about last night …."

Gordon cut him off. "It's not. I called my Commanding Officer, I tried to get some more time but they need me back. I'm being shipped off to Russia Wednesday afternoon. They want me to take a team out to oversee the building of these new hydrofoils. If we get some, then I'll be commanding one of the test units. I'm sorry Al; I can't get out of it. You know how strict they are."

Alan nodded sadly. "I suppose Scott'll be going back soon too, and John."

Gordon nodded. "We were going to leave early tomorrow morning. I know Scott's dropping me of. Dad was going to take John but he'll be staying. I guess we'll be taking John too."

Alan nodded again. "Right." He said quietly.

"Listen, I'll switch my 'phone on whilst I'm on duty on Wednesday. You'll call me, right?" Gordon tried to sound light, and not let the guilt he felt surface. Alan's despondency was disturbing.

"Yeah sure." Alan nodded.

"I'm sorry Al. You know if I could be here I would." Gordon said gently.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Alan's tone remained low though. "I'll still have Virgil and Sam. And Father'll be here, right?"

"Right." Gordon nodded overenthusiastically. "I wasn't going to tell you this. I wanted to surprise you, I'm going to be visiting some labs in Utah the weekend you're racing Belleview. So I can come and see you then." Gordon smiled, but it soon fell when he looked up to see Alan's sorrowful expression.

"I'm not racing Belleview." Alan said quietly.

"What? Why not? I'm sure once Sam sees the car he'll have it fixed in no time. You've got Kenny, and Virgil will help as soon as he's well enough." Gordon encouraged.

"We picked the car up this morning." Alan looked to the floor with a sigh. "Ferrari US are going to do all the work. I talked to Sam and Virgil, and I'm going to ask them to restore the car to road safety standards." Gordon frowned shaking his head and indicating his confusion. "Sam can take the roll cage out and the racing stripes off, himself. It'll probably need re-spraying but that won't cost much." Alan paused, summoning up the will to continue. "I'm going to sell it."

It took a few minutes for that to register. After shaking his head several times, Gordon finally spoke. "You can't, you've worked so hard on that car. Not just you but Sam and Virgil too and what about Kenny? Besides, what will you race?" Alan looked up awkwardly and Gordon shook his head. "Oh no. No." He paused. "No, Al. We talked about this, you are not about to give up racing."

"Gordon, please try and understand. If there's an inquest I won't have a choice, they'll take my licence." Alan pleaded.

"That's a pretty big 'if', if you ask me." Gordon sighed. "Al, you're good at this. How many trophy's and medal's have you got to prove it?" He waved a hand in exasperation. "You can't give up on your dreams because of this! You're just shaken up, you need to get back on the track and then you'll be fine. If you fall off a bike, you get straight back on. Right?"

"No!" Alan shook his head, frowning at his brother. "I haven't fallen off a bike Gordon. I killed a man, not to mention hurting Virgil and you. I don't think my dreams are really worth all that."

Gordon reached both his hands up to Alan's face. "Look at me, watch my lips." He ordered. "You didn't kill anyone and what happened to Virgil wasn't your fault. Al, you can't give up on this, you have the potential to go far. What did Virgil and Sam say?"

"That I should wait. That I should see how I feel later on. But I'm not going to change my mind about this Gordon." He said adamantly.

"Al, you've got more achievements on that track than … than…. than Scott's flown planes!" He said exasperatedly. "You can not give up because of this. It was an accident; I can't believe you're even seriously considering this!" He exclaimed. "Have you thought about what you'd do?"

"Work harder at college maybe?" Alan shrugged. "I guess if I wasn't cutting tutorials to go practicing then I could do okay. Maybe follow in John's footsteps, become an astronaut like Dad."

Gordon's eyebrows nearly hit his hairline as his eyes widened in surprise. "What? I can't believe we're having this conversation."

"You're not going to change my mind." Alan told him.

"I can see that, but maybe Wednesday will." Gordon said cryptically. "Promise me you won't rush into anything?"

"Gordon…" Alan shook his head, exasperated himself.

"Just promise you won't do anything until after you've spoken to me on Wednesday, okay?" Gordon found himself asking.

"Okay." Alan shrugged. "Whatever you think, but I'm not going to change my mind."

"Yeah." Gordon sighed, pausing. "And for the record, you haven't messed up. You've coped with this really well and I'm proud of you. The others are too but Al, never be ashamed to talk to anyone about how you're feeling, especially me."

Alan nodded slowly. "I'm so sorry."

Gordon nodded. "I know." He paused. "I know." He repeated sadly. "Come on. I wonder how Virgil got on." He pondered. "I'll bet Scott's doing the mother hen routine."

"I think you saved me from an impending pep talk, coming back when you did." Alan groaned. "I owe you one." He paused, uncertainly. "You didn't tell him or Dad about the drinking, did you?"

Gordon shook his head. "No. I think you'd have known by now if I had; they would have hit the roof." He paused. "I'm trusting you to realise that it was a stupid mistake. It's bad enough dicing with death on the track without doing stupid things like that."

Alan bowed his head. "I'm sorry Gordon. It won't happen again. I promise." He paused before looking up. "And thanks for not telling Scott or Dad. If they ever found out, my life wouldn't be worth living."

Gordon smirked. "Yeah, well just remember that next time."

"There won't be a next time." Alan promised.

"Good. If you want them to treat you like an adult, you have to act like an adult." He glanced across at his brother to make sure his words were sinking in. Content that Alan was taking on board what he said, he was prepared to move on. "At least you got out of your 'impending pep talk' with Scott. I ended up with John! I was quite impressed with his attempts though. He's not bad at all those Virgil-ism's." Alan frowned at the word. "Y'know all that insightful crap he comes out with." Alan still looked at him blankly but he ignored him. "Come on." He got to his feet. "I want to see how he got on."

"Gordy…" Alan stopped him as he reached out for his retreating arm, getting to his feet himself. "Thanks." He said sincerely, looking to the floor slightly feeling awkward.

Gordon nodded, also uncomfortable. "Al there's nothing to…"

"Yes there is." Alan disagreed quickly.

For a few seconds they looked closely at each other before either of them moved. "Come on." Gordon said eventually as he draped an easy arm around his brothers shoulders, carefully so as not to hurt him. "I'm starving."

"You're always starving!" Alan laughed as they made their way to the door.

"Don't forget I skipped breakfast." Gordon defended himself. "Besides swimming makes me hungry and Grandma says…"

"Grandma says!" Alan laughed. "Listen at you! You're such a woman!" He grinned shaking his head as he followed his brother.

"Excuse me?" Gordon chuckled as their conversation filtered out and they made their way down the corridor in search of their brothers. The atmosphere becoming much more relaxed and the tension completely relieved.

Gordon hoped that Wednesday's investigation findings would favour Alan. He had serious misgivings that if he they didn't, this would just be the beginning of Alan's problems. He vowed to talk to Virgil before he left. His older brother was much closer to Alan geographically and whilst a videophone was the next best thing, it wasn't quite being there in person.


	13. Apprehension

Authors Note: Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter; they're all greatly appreciated. So please continue to let me know your thoughts and opinions.

I'm afraid there'll be a bit of a wait on the next chapter again, but it'll be with you as soon as I have an opportunity to post it.

Chapter Thirteen – Apprehension

Jeff Tracy rarely showed how nervous he actually was. However, as he sat anxiously awaiting for his son to emerge from the dreaded interviewing procedure, his fingers rhythmically strummed the chair arm. He sighed, leaning forward and glancing at his watch. He found himself wondering what exactly was going on in the room. More precisely, just how Virgil would react to the gruelling procedure that the others had found so distressing. Alan's reaction yesterday had been disturbing enough for him to witness.

Jeff sat back again, breathing out another sigh and letting the back of his head rest up against the wall. He couldn't help the thoughts that swam rapidly through his conscious thinking. Knowing he had to be prepared for the outcome of this investigation, either way, was certainly taking its toll. The memory of Alan's haunted expression when he materialized from this very room would remain with him forever.

His thoughts turned to the implications of this weekend. He had to hope that Alan would be vindicated and with all his heart, he wanted to believe that he would be. Deep down though, he knew he had to be prepared. And to consider all possibilities meant the prospect of an inquest. He wondered how Alan would cope with such a daunting procedure. An inquest could spell the end of his career on the race track, not to mention the allocation of responsibility. Alan felt guilty already, to have an inquest hold him responsible too; it would destroy the boy and Jeff knew it.

His mind wandered to the other implications. Implications he had put off considering for the last few days. This weekend should have been an exciting time, a time to talk of a bright future for all of them and a time for propositions. Instead, they were forced through a harsh, ruthless procedure that would determine Alan's future. A future that, judging by his and Sam's reactions to the interviews, was looking less than bright. He briefly wondered if maybe he should proceed as planned; discussion of his latest project would certainly be a welcome diversion. He shrugged the idea off though. None of his sons or even himself were in any state of mind to listen to his plans for the future. Especially at present, when their future seemed so uncertain.

He sighed again, running a hand over his hair.

A door opened further down the corridor. Even though he knew it wasn't the correct room, his head snapped up hopefully. The couple that emerged passed sympathetic smiles at his anxiousness, as they walked past. He looked away, now sitting forward and resting his head in his hands. So many things to think about, he honestly didn't know where to start.

He began to wonder what was taking so long. He was sure even Alan hadn't taken this long and glanced at his watch once more. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him. It seemed like he'd been waiting for an eternity. Though he knew his concern as to whether Virgil was really up to this, would have been affecting him subconsciously. Something wasn't right with Virgil. He couldn't explain what it was or how he knew it. He just did. He knew his sons much better than they realised, especially Scott and Virgil. The eldest two thought that by confiding in each other they kept a lot from their father. Whilst this was true to a certain extent, they often underestimated his perceptiveness.

He sighed yet again, heartily. He had noticed this morning when he returned to the breakfast table, the numerous glances and glares that passed around with increasing concern. The atmosphere alone revealed the secrecy and unease. When he glanced around the table, each one of them had given a little away in their mannerisms. He knew, despite the glares and obvious animosity between them, that Scott and Virgil would ensure each other were okay eventually. Which left Alan. Gordon's absence this morning had been an indication that all was not well between his youngest sons either. He suspected that Alan had lashed out and Gordon taken the force of his anger. After refusing to confide in both himself and Scott, Jeff knew that Alan would have been simmering away all night until he finally exploded. He was immensely concerned about how Alan's desire to be treated as an adult, was affecting how much he was allowing people to help him cope.

His 'phone vibrated in his pocket and he quickly resolved that he would talk to his youngest son when they got back to the hotel. Taking the 'phone from its confines he glanced at the caller ID; Tracy Enterprises, New York. He cancelled it. He had been determined that this weekend would be work free and had ordered not to be disturbed.

Being a single Father and getting the balance right between work and home had never been easy. He wasn't about to delude himself into thinking he succeeded. He wasn't the perfect businessman and he certainly wasn't the perfect parent. There were times when he got it right, there were times when he didn't. He was only human; he'd made mistakes and at times, struggled for there to be a balance at all. Of late, he felt his time had been spent far too much with his work and not with his family. This weekend was his opportunity to change that. The 'phone vibrated a second time to indicate a message had been left and this time, Jeff obliged. Placing the 'phone in his palm, he held it up to see the open screen and waited for the message to play.

The recorded image that played, showed a man Jeff was familiar with; Marcus Ford. "Jeff, Hi." He began, uncomfortably fiddling with his tie. "I know you didn't want disturbing this weekend, so I'm sorry to have to call you like this. Erm…" He hesitated again. "I heard about Alan, I hope he's okay. I need to talk to you but I'll erm… I'll call back later. Unless you call me first. Talk to you then, Bye." The communication was cut.

Marcus Ford was more than a colleague. He was a good man and a better friend. Now, he practically ran the New York office of Tracy Enterprises, leaving Jeff to spend time on his latest project. Jeff had been expecting a 'phone call to express his concern for Alan and to pass on his good wishes. However, the serious, sombre expression and the hesitation in his usually confident friend alarmed Jeff. He made the decision to call Marcus as soon as he returned to the hotel. Surely, things couldn't get any worse.

Suddenly, the light above the interview room flickered. The 'Interview in Progress, Do Not Enter' sign, illuminated in red, flashed off. Pocketing the 'phone he stood up in anticipation, grabbing Virgil's jacket from where it remained folded over the opposite chair arm. He stood there anxiously for a few minutes, waiting for the door to open and its occupants to make an appearance. After a while, the door was opened and Virgil came out, looking up to his father with a small smile. He was followed by the man Alan had identified as Dr Nickel and the ever imposing Ms Dews.

"Thank you Virgil." Dr Nickel was offering his hand out, which Virgil shook. "I hope you're feeling better soon."

Virgil smiled a little remorseful. "Yeah, me too." He swallowed, breathing slowly but as deeply as he dared.

"We appreciate your cooperation with the investigation, Mr Tracy." Ms Dews nodded a farewell as she began to walk away. Her arms wrapped tightly round a file that she hugged close to her chest. Her shoes making an annoyingly loud noise as they connected with the hard floor and she retreated.

"Thanks." Dr Nickel smiled as he followed her, rushing to keep up.

Virgil sighed, turning to his father. "Talk about good cop, bad cop."

"That bad, huh?" Jeff smiled softly, pulling his own and Virgil's jackets over one arm. "Come on, let's get you back." He placed an arm on Virgil's back as he guided him to the reception area. "We'll talk about it on the way."

"Actually Dad." Virgil paused, slowing his already slow pace down further and almost coming to a halt. "Can we …" He hesitated. "Can we go somewhere? Get a coffee or something?" He saw the look of surprise on Jeff's face and mistook it for reluctance. "If you're busy we can go straight back." He added quickly.

"No, no." Jeff shook his head. "I'm never too busy for you boys, there's a coffee shop across the road. Come on." He led the way, Virgil following slower and much more cautiously.

As they sat down at one of the small window tables Virgil winced. Though he tried to contain it, Jeff immediately looked up to him.

"You alright Son?" He frowned.

"Yeah, yeah." Virgil smiled, though he felt a little breathless. The walk had taken more energy that he thought possible for such a short distance. "There's some ibuprofen in my jacket pocket, can you pass me a few?"

Jeff nodded, picking the jacket up from where he'd laid it out and searching through the pockets. "Here." He passed the packet across the table as a waitress approached. "You want anything to eat?"

"No, thanks."

Jeff nodded at the reply, going on to order two coffees and turning back to his son as the waitress departed. "How did it go?" He asked softly as Virgil palmed the foil wrapped pills.

Virgil blew out a breath. "I'm not really sure Dad. That woman was intimidating and she twisted everything I said. The guy, the crash investigator he was okay. I don't know what I could tell them really…" Virgil shook his head. "Alan will have told them everything and anything I could."

"What did they ask you?" Jeff asked, frowning as Virgil continued to pop two pills through the foil cover.

"They asked me about what I was doing in the car in the first place, and what I thought happened. And then about Mark and what he was like." Virgil shook his head again, turning to look out of the window. He could see divers in racing suits heading for the registration office. Further down, the revving of car engines could be heard as the enhanced vehicles made their way down to the Scrutineering cage.

"What did you tell them?" Jeff asked. "Thank you." He smiled up at the waitress as she placed two mugs of coffee before them. She smiled widely back at him and hurried back to her colleagues. Virgil watched slightly amused as they talked excitedly, obviously having recognised his father.

"Just that he could be a bit arrogant at times but that he was a skilled and perfectly competent driver. From what I knew anyway." Virgil sipped at the coffee, placing the pills in his mouth and swallowing them one at a time.

"Anything else?" Jeff asked. Virgil shook his head in the process of swallowing the second pill. "I thought they'd ask about when you were trapped in the car." Jeff said thoughtfully. "If you saw or heard anything that could help."

Virgil dropped his gaze from his fathers, stirring the coffee in front of him slowly. "Well they did." He stumbled, looking back up. Only because it was imperative that his father believed what he was about to tell him. "But I can't really tell them anything. I don't remember."

"You don't remember?" Jeff frowned; placing the mug that had previously been half way to his lips back on the table. He turned his full attention to his son. "Well, did that doctor say you would experience some memory loss?" He paused. "I mean, he said there was no head injury." Jeff added, clearly anxious. "Scott didn't think the treatment that you got was as good as it could have been. I'm beginning to think I agree."

"Well no he didn't say anything, but I think I was unconscious. They said at the hospital that I was unconscious when they pulled me out." He ran a hand over his head and Jeff studied him closely.

He was lying.

To Jeff it was obvious, but he hesitantly let his son carry on. "I remember telling Alan to jump and then the next thing I was waking up in that make shift hospital place." Virgil shifted uncomfortably, squirming under his father's analytical gaze.

"Hmm," Jeff's frown deepened. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Virgil looked up with wide eyes; worried his father had sensed his lies. He barely managed a nod. "Uh huh." He paused thinking quickly. "It was just frustrating. Stressful doesn't cover it." He wished he could summon up the courage to stretch out all the tense muscle in his body. He knew it would only be painful. "I feel uptight, and I'm still a bit sore. That's all." He smiled uneasily, hoping his father would buy the explanation.

"Relax, its over and done with now." Jeff could see he wasn't about to tell him the truth and reluctantly moved on. He picked the packet of pills up that rested on the table. Opening it, he peered inside seeing there was only a handful left. He looked up to Virgil's questioning stare as he sipped slowly on his hot drink. "Was this full when you started?" He asked.

Virgil nodded regretfully. "Yeah, Scott got them from the pharmacy when he got the prescription. I've got another pack back at the hotel though."

Jeff raised his eyebrows. "So you've been taking these with what the doctor from the hospital prescribed?"

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, he said to take them as well."

"Son." Jeff sighed. "I really think you should see somebody about this. The pain medication the hospital doctor prescribed obviously isn't doing anything for you. Why don't you let me call Charlie? He could probably give you something a bit stronger."

Virgil shook his head. "It's okay Dad, it takes the edge of it. I can handle it."

"You don't have to handle it though." Jeff told him firmly.

"Dad, I'm managing." Virgil sighed. "I'll see how it goes. If it doesn't get any better, I'll go see someone as soon as I get back to Denver."

"You don't have to put yourself through this, just one call Virgil." Jeff watched him. "That's all it'll take."

"Dad, please." Virgil closed his eyes. "It's really not that bad. I feel fine." He rolled his eyes at his father's over-protectiveness.

Jeff sighed loudly, shaking his head. "Don't look at me like that." He chided. "I'm your father; it's my job to worry." He paused. "You look pale. Have you been sleeping alright?"

Virgil shrugged slightly. "I slept okay last night. I've had a few nightmares but I can deal with it." He insisted. "I'm coping Dad." He smiled softly, seeing that was really what his father was trying to assess.

Jeff nodded. "Good. I couldn't help but notice that things were a bit quiet at breakfast this morning. I thought maybe there was something wrong and I don't want to be kept out of the loop."

Virgil's eyes widened. "Alan dropped a bombshell." He told his father softly. "Don't say anything, he told us this in confidence, but he said to Sam and I that he's thinking about selling the car." Jeff looked up obviously surprised. "Yeah, exactly." Virgil acknowledged his father's expression. "I think we convinced him to wait for a while. It's not so much the car as the racing. This crash has shaken him up more than he's letting on. He's nervous of racing again, but I'm sure once this investigation clears him and he's got his confidence back he'll be fine." Virgil's positive attitude boosted Jeff's spirits a little.

"I can't believe that." Jeff sighed. "You and Sam have worked so hard on that car, Alan and Kenny too." He shook his head. "I could talk to him?" He suggested. "I was going to have a word with him this afternoon anyway."

"No." Virgil shook his head. "I think we've convinced him to hold off for a while. Besides, I don't know who he's told. I don't think Scott or John know. When we were talking about it, they were talking about something else."

Jeff nodded. "Okay, I won't mention it unless he says anything to me. Keep me informed though." He paused, looking down at the cooling coffee that was now only half full. He wondered whether to mention the other thing on his mind, the other thing that had become apparent at breakfast. Taking in a deep breath he looked up, catching Virgil's gaze. "I noticed Scott seemed a bit preoccupied this morning too." He paused. "Again."

Virgil looked down guiltily, a gentle sigh escaping his lips. "Yeah, I'm going to talk to him Dad. I just haven't had the chance yet, that's all."

Jeff nodded. "I know you will." He paused. "He's concerned you'll overdo it again today."

"Has he said something?" Virgil asked, suddenly frowning.

"He mentioned that I should probably keep an eye on you." When Virgil growled in irritation, Jeff sighed. "That's Scott, you know he's worried."

"Well I wish he wouldn't." Virgil griped.

"Can you honestly say that if it had been him in a crash that had killed somebody. You wouldn't be exactly the same?" Jeff asked with a smile, already knowing the answer.

"I'm not saying that I wouldn't be worried." Virgil stated. "But I wouldn't fuss around him constantly."

"Is that what Scott's doing?" Jeff asked, thinking he was finally getting somewhere.

"Not intentionally." Virgil sighed sorrowfully. "I can feel him watching me all the time. Take this morning for example, every time I looked up at breakfast he was staring at me."

"Yes, I did notice that." Jeff admitted.

"Oh good!" Virgil sighed again. "It's not just me then!" He stopped, sighing and shaking his head regretfully. "I know it's just because he's worried and I know I've given him cause to worry. I just wish he wouldn't." Virgil said softly, shaking his head again and finishing off the coffee in front of him. He smiled up graciously as, within minutes of them both finishing their drinks, the waitress brought the bill over. "I'll get it." Virgil said as he made an awkward effort to stand.

Jeff watched him, picking up the jackets and the tablets on the table before following. "You ready to head back now?" He asked as Virgil walked towards him, flicking his wallet closed and burying it into his pocket.

He nodded in answer to his father's question. "Suppose I'd better go and face the music." He smiled.

"Come on." Jeff smiled. A gentle hand on his sons shoulder as they headed to the car and set out on their journey back to the hotel. "I'm sure once you've reassured Scott that you're okay things'll calm down. Between you and me, I think he was more than a little shook up himself. Of course, he wouldn't admit to that." Jeff paused. "Not to me, anyway." He said purposely.

"You're probably right." Virgil mused as he walked around to the passenger seat in the car, lowering himself into it gently. "I tired to talk to him this morning but we had to go down to breakfast, I'll try again later. I need to unwind first, that interview was pretty stressful."

"Feeling better now?" Jeff asked having studied his son's delicate descent into the car as the engine purred to life.

"Yeah." Virgil smiled.

Silence descended upon them. A comfortable, amiable silence that continued until their journey was well underway.

"Do you think I'm ungrateful?" Virgil asked suddenly.

Jeff frowned. "No, why would I think that?"

"Well, I guess I should just be thankful that I'm still here for Scott to stare at and that I've got brothers who care. Even if Scott is still mad with me, and annoying at times." He paused thoughtfully. "That's more than Jack Jamison's got right now."

Jeff Tracy frowned as he concentrated on driving; it took a much greater effort for him when in England. It was always so tempting to revert to the right. He found his mind drifting though. He had spent the last half an hour trying to understand not just what had happened during the interview, but what the ever so subtle problem between his two eldest sons was. He had failed to get Virgil to tell him outright what was wrong. Yet he'd just let it slip in ordinary conversation.

So, Virgil was frustrated with Scott's constant concern and Scott was annoyed with his brother for some reason. Jeff pondered the thought, remembering his conversation last night with Virgil, his son telling him that he'd been, in his own words, an idiot. He sighed heavily. As capable as he was at evaluating his sons' behaviour, understanding it was an area he often lacked in. Hence the need to leave them to their own devices.

"Dad." His quite brooding was splintered by Virgil's deep but soft voice. "Green means go in England."

For a second he frowned, before glancing up at the traffic lights they'd stopped at. "Oh, sorry son." He smiled as he pulled away from the lights. His mind was somewhere else entirely.

XxxxX

Their arrival back at the hotel was undocumented. The paparazzi had nearly completely disappeared, only a few lingered on. Though both Jeff and Virgil knew, they'd be back for the preliminary hearing on Wednesday.

"I think that's your welcoming committee." Jeff smiled as he gestured to where Scott, Sam and John loitered near the reception desk.

"Hey." Scott smiled, rushing over. "Are you okay? You've been gone ages!" He exclaimed anxiously.

"We're fine, Scott." Jeff smiled. The question had obviously been directed at Virgil but Jeff quickly deflected the anxious looks the young man was receiving.

"What took so long?" Scott asked.

"Oh, we went for a coffee afterwards, that's all." Jeff frowned, shaking his head as if it wasn't really any of Scott's concern.

"Oh, right." Scott smiled forcefully. His vision turned to his brother in the same way it had at breakfast. Virgil began to feel like the proverbial bug under a microscope, again.

"Did you get the car loaded up Sam?" Jeff turned to the mechanic with interest.

"Yes, sir." Sam enthused. "I've taken a look and I think it's mostly cosmetic damage. It probably looks a lot worse than it is. We could have it rebuilt in no time. Ferrari US are going to the mechanics and Kenny and I will do the body work ourselves." Jeff nodded. "Actually, I was going to ask you if you'd give me a hand John." He turned to the only other fair-haired young man in the area.

"Me?" John seemed surprised.

"Yeah, well I wanted to upload some of the digital photos and information onto the computer. So as I can make a start on what I'm going to need. Virg said you're pretty good with computers and they're not my favourite toys. I was hoping you'd give me a hand?" Sam asked optimistically.

"Sure." John smiled. "I'll try."

"What will you be able to tell Sam?"

"Well, I can put the photos into a program that enables me to play with the wreckage. So as I can find out the best may to manipulate the panels without causing more damage. Some of it Ferrari US will have to strip off anyway." He shrugged. "But I like to know what I'm dealing with and it'll help give me a good idea of what I'm going to need."

Jeff nodded approvingly. "Sounds interesting."

"It is." Sam enthused. "It's amazing what you can do with technology these days. The program can make an estimate, based on a cross sectional diagram of the mechanics. It'll even tell us what damage has most likely to have been done under the hood. Of course, it's not accurate, it's all based on probabilities." He paused. "We're quite lucky that most of the damage is to the front and side. There's only minimal damage to the wheel arch at the back which is where the more expensive parts of the engine are found in Ferrari's." He smirked up at Jeff, who returned the gesture.

"I'd be interested to see that Sam." Jeff smiled. "Let me know when you've got it set up and I'll come and have a look."

"Sure Mr Tracy. I can get straight on it, if that's alright with you John?"

"Yeah." John nodded, "Sure."

They walked off towards the lift, talking to each other excitedly. Jeff turned back to his two eldest sons. "I can't wait to see that." He shook his head in anticipation.

"It's pretty cool." Virgil told him. "Sam and I used the program when we were trying to decide where the stripes would go. You can make up a three dimensional hologram that you can then manipulate to see what your idea would look like if you actually did it. It means you can modify your ideas, and in Alan's case realise how stupid they were, without even touching the car."

Jeff nodded with a smirk. "Right well boys, I've got a few calls to make. I'll be in my room if you need me." He nearly walked off before turning back to Scott. "Oh and if either of you see Alan, will you tell him I want to talk to him."

"Sure Dad." Virgil responded.

Scott nodded. "Okay Dad." He smiled as his father placed a comforting hand on Virgil's shoulder before following John and Sam towards the lift. "And then there were two." Scott turned to his brother. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" Virgil snapped. "I'm sorry." He said immediately. "I didn't mean that how it sounded, I'm just… that interview wound me up." He sighed frankly. "I think I might grab a sketchbook and go out in the gardens for a while." He looked down, moving fractionally away from his brother.

"Virg…" Scott stopped him. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked gently.

Virgil shook his head. "Not really." He sighed, turning and continuing to walk towards the lift.

"Well, hold up!" Scott called, taking hasty steps towards his brother. "I'll come with you. I haven't been out in the gardens yet."

Virgil came to a stop, standing by the lift quite still. He waited for Scott to catch up with him. "Scott," He said slowly with a soft smile. He was attempting not to come across as abrupt, and failing. "I just want to go out there for a few minutes to get some fresh air and sketch a bit." He opened his arms as if he was going to shrug but then changed his mind. "On my own." He paused. "Look. You were the one that was so insistent that I took it easy today, so why don't you just let me do that?" By the time he finished, he realised there was a little more bite in his tone than was absolutely necessary.

"But this morning…" Scott frowned. "I thought you might want to talk." He sighed. "After what you said to Dad."

"I … I did, I do." Virgil told him. "You said when I was ready." Scott nodded. "Well right now I'm stressed and I just want to chill for a while. If that's okay by you." He added sarcastically.

"Okay." Scott nodded slowly, frowning slightly at his brother's brusque tone. "Okay." He told Virgil's retreating back.

He stood there for a few minutes watching his brother walk away and cursing himself for thinking of his stomach that morning. If he'd taken the opportunity earlier to continue their discussion then maybe, he thought, his brother might not be clamming up on him now. He shook his head, strange how Alan, Sam and now Virgil had all come back from their interviews in such terrible moods.

A hand grasping his shoulder startled him and he turned quickly to its possessor. "Hey!" Gordon was smiling at him, Alan matching his grin.

"Hi!" Scott returned the grins, noting that his younger brothers seemed much happier and more relaxed. Scott supposed he could safely assume that they'd sorted out their earlier disagreement.

"Is Virgil back yet?" Alan asked.

"Yeah." Scott replied. "You just missed him." He gestured to the lift they'd only just got out of.

"Where is he?" Gordon asked. He was watching Scott carefully, noticing the subtle hints that Scott was preoccupied with stressing over something.

"He's gone to get a sketchbook and then he's going to the garden for awhile." Scott explained, smirking to himself at Gordon's wide-eyed stare.

"The garden?" The redhead was asking incredulously. "As in flowers and grass and stuff?"

Scott nodded, bemused by Gordon's obvious distaste. "Yes, Gordy the garden as in flowers and grass and stuff. Lots of nice pretty scenes for him to sketch."

"Well what are waiting for?" Alan asked. "Come on, let's go." He turned on his heel, fully expecting his brothers to follow him.

"Al, wait." Scott called. "You can talk to him later, just leave him awhile. Yeah?"

Scott watched with trepidation as Alan glanced to Gordon for conformation before answering. The young aquanaut fractionally shook his head when it looked as though Alan was about to question their big brother. It seemed to have the desired effect.

"Okay." Alan frowned suspiciously at Gordon, obviously expecting some kind of explanation later on. "We were going to go and grab something to eat, Gordon's hungry. You want to come?"

"Erm, thanks but no, I'm not really hungry." He paused, remembering his father's words. "Oh, and Dad's looking for you. I think that maybe you should go up and see him. He's in his room." Scott smiled. Pleased both of them were willing to let him deal with Virgil and were happy to let the subject drop without further question. "I think I'm going to go find Sam and John, I'll catch up with you later."

"Sure." Gordon smiled, as he led Alan away. "We'll see you later." Scott watched them as they walked away, smirking to himself as Gordon tried to field Alan's urgent questions.

He headed off in search of Sam and John, completely unaware of the grisly discovery he was on course to make …. …

XxxxX

Jeff was relatively surprised at the image that his 'phone projected when the video call was answered. Marcus sat back in his leather chair, tie askew and shirt sleeves rolled up. He looked tired, no, Jeff corrected himself, he looked exhausted.

"Marcus." He greeted with a false smile. "You look how I feel." He smirked.

Marcus stifled a yawn. "You only just caught me Jeff, I was about to leave for lunch."

It was only at his words that Jeff noticed the light skies behind his friends head. "I'm sorry Marcus, I completely forgot about the time difference! I'll call you back after lunch if you want?"

"No, no." The response came, with a shake of the head. "Not at all. It's a good excuse not to meet Dawn actually. She has her parents coming and you know how much they love me. I wouldn't be too bothered if I had to work through lunch." Jeff chuckled at the dry humour, spying the cup of coffee in his friends hand forlornly. "How's Alan?"

Jeff's lingering smirk suddenly faltered. "Honestly, Marcus. I don't really know, more to the point I don't think he does."

"Poor Kid." Marcus shook his head in sympathy. "I can't imagine what he's going through."

"Yeah." Jeff agreed. "He's determined he's okay, but I wonder how much of his courage is just an act."

"No, he's a strong kid, Jeff." Marcus disagreed. "He'll come through this okay." Jeff's only response was a sigh. "The media's reporting that there was someone else in the car. It didn't say whom, just Alan's older brother which doesn't narrow it down much. It was Virgil wasn't it?" Jeff nodded, deciding on a scotch himself. "Is he alright?" Marcus continued.

"Yeah." Jeff hesitated to sip at his newly poured drink. "They're coping Marcus, it's just… well, there's just so much to consider. Has there been any backlash on the company?" He scoffed to himself. 'That was a stupid question.' He thought wryly.

Marcus smiled warmly. "Nothing we can't handle. The press have been trying to get another statement out of us, but I've just fed them the 'no comment' stance so far. I mean, at the end of the day this is a private matter and they know it's got nothing to do with us."

"That won't stop them pestering you for your comments on the situation though." Jeff replied miserably. "And this is just the kind of publicity we don't need at the moment."

"We can handle it Jeff. Don't worry; they won't get anything out of us." Marcus assured the older man. "You just concentrate on the boys."

"I always went out of my way to ensure they were kept out of the media as children Marcus. I know they're men now, but they'll always be my sons. And I'll always do anything I can to protect them." Jeff ran a rough hand over his face. "That includes keeping the publicity to a minimum, for Alan's sake."

"I understand that Jeff, of course I do." Marcus smiled. "The Press Office can handle it; that's what they're paid to do. How are things there? Do you know what happened yet?"

Jeff shook his head sadly, sipping at his scotch slowly. "No, not really. There's an ongoing investigation, but they can't tell us anything. They've only just allowed us to pick the car up, this morning."

"Well, do they think it was a fault on the car or ..?" Marcus shrugged.

"They're not at liberty to say." Jeff ground out a frustrated sigh. "They must know, if they've released the car but we just have to wait until Wednesday. There's going to be a preliminary hearing where the investigation team will present their findings. Then a committee will decide if there's sufficient evidence for a formal inquest."

"Well what do the mechanics think?" Marcus was frowning. "Surely they must have an idea? Alan's always going on about how good that Malone guy is."

"Kenny Malone? Yeah, he is, he's very good but he couldn't be here this weekend. You've heard him talk of Sam Marshal haven't you?"

Marcus nodded. "Yeah. Virgil's friend, right?"

Jeff nodded too. "He's stepped up to head the mechanical team."

"Oh." Marcus deflated. "And you're worried that Malone could have done a better job?"

"No." Jeff replied automatically. "No," He repeated more surely. "Sam's perfectly capable."

"You don't sound convinced." Marcus observed.

"It's just… Something caused Alan to spin. If Alan's didn't make a mistake, which I doubt he did. The only other cause I can think of is that there was something wrong with the car…"

"And Marshal should have picked up on that." Marcus finished for him. "You're going to kill me for suggesting this but Alan's pretty high profile; have you considered sabotage?"

Jeff nodded. "It's not a thought I want to dwell on. I've considered it but in all honesty, Marcus, somebody was with the car almost all the time. Virgil and Sam were working on it right up until the last minute."

"So what? Now you have to wait for the preliminary hearing to see what they found." Jeff's small nod was his only reply. "And what then, what if there's an inquest?" Marcus asked.

Jeff shrugged. "It could go on for months. If they decided that Alan was at fault, he could lose his licence. Or worse, be facing criminal charges."

"What?" The exclamation was spluttered out, with nearly half a mouth full of coffee.

"Yeah." Jeff nodded. "Apparently, if they find him negligent, they can bring manslaughter charges. So I'm told anyway." He paused. "I've got people working on it already."

"You don't think it'll come to that though?" Marcus frowned. "Do you?"

Jeff sighed yet again. "Based on Alan's capabilities? No. Never. I have every faith in him; you've seen him race Marcus. He's good. I know he wouldn't have caused that accident. Sure, he can be hot headed and he's a got a temper on him sometimes, but he's a different person in that car. I know he'd never put Virgil in danger. If anything, having him in the car would have preventing Alan from taking risks he might otherwise have taken." He paused. "But then again, the way Virgil and Alan have reacted to these interviews with the investigators, I'm not so sure."

"How do you mean the way they reacted? I thought the boys were doing okay?" Marcus continued to frown in response.

"They're doing as well as can be expected I suppose. I can't pretend I understand what either of them are feeling right now. They've both taken it pretty hard." Jeff took another sip of his scotch, taking a long pause. "Alan's not really said much. I know Scott and Gordon have both been trying to get him to open up a little, but …" He trailed off, illustrating their lack of success. "And then there's Virgil. I'm sure he's hiding something but I can't think what. Everyone's been so preoccupied with Alan just lately; I'm worried I'm missing something."

"I'm sure Virgil would tell you if he thought you needed to know." Marcus reassured him. "He's probably just trying to save you the worry."

"You're probably right, but I'm supposed to worry."

"The joys of fatherhood, huh?" Marcus grinned. "Tell me about it!" Jeff grinned in response. "You know if there's anything I can do to help. Just call."

"Thanks Marcus. I appreciate it." Jeff smiled sincerely. "Are you sure you can handle the media?"

"Ah yeah, sure. I'm more worried about Dawn's parents!" Marcus smirked, attempting to put the senior man at ease. He didn't quite succeed. "We can handle it Jeff, don't worry."

"I thought I might sit in on that board meeting tomorrow, after all." Jeff tested the waters. "They're bound to be getting cold feet after all this. I was thinking, maybe me being there would settle a few nerves, and stifle some of the gossip too. Actually, I thought you'd be calling to request my presence."

"It was brought up at the general meeting this morning. I thought you'd want to spend all your time with the boys so I quashed the idea." Marcus smiled. "It's up to you."

Jeff nodded. "I'll think about it and let you know." He paused. "And you're absolutely sure you'll be able to manage the press situation?" Marcus nodded slightly, grinning. "Thanks Marcus. If you have any problems, you just let me know." He was about to go further when a short, sharp knock at the hotel door prevented him. "That's probably Alan; I'll let you get off to Dawn."

"I'm in no rush." Marcus smiled, glancing at his watch. "In fact, I'll probably be too late now." He grinned. "Such a shame." He added sarcastically. "I'll probably talk to you tomorrow anyway, the Fletcher Aerodynamics Contracts up for review." There was another impatient knock. "I'll let you go. If I don't see you before, I hope everything goes okay on Wednesday."

"Thanks Marcus, me too. Talk to you later." Jeff smiled as he cut the connection and headed to the door. "Me too." He mumbled again, pensively.


	14. Tragic Revelations

Authors Note:  Thank you to everyone who left reviews for the last chapter. Thank you also, for your patience with regard to me not posting these chapters as quickly as I had anticipated. Please continue to review, I value and appreciate everyone's thoughts and comments.

Chapter Fourteen – Tragic Revelations

Jeff headed over to the hotel door with a heavy sigh. Opening it to Alan's rising hand, intent on knocking once more. The young blonde halted at his father's appearance.

"Dad! Finally!" He exclaimed as he walked into the room without invitation. Gordon followed, an apologetic glance at their father for the intrusion.

Jeff's head pivoted to follow his youngest son. He had to physically stop himself from gawping at the vibrant young man that stood before him now. The change in Alan's demeanour since breakfast was more than a little surprising.

"Sorry about that, boys. I was on the 'phone." Jeff explained as he closed the door and followed them into the richly decorated room.

"We heard Marcus." Gordon informed him. "I hope we weren't interrupting anything important." The aquanaut glared at his younger brother. Revealing to Jeff that the insistent knocking was all Alan's doing. "How is he?"

Jeff nodded a smile. "Oh, you know Marcus. He's fine."

"There aren't any problems in New York are there?" Gordon asked anxiously. He knew deep down that his father would never leave Alan at such a crucial time. However, having told his brother he couldn't count on his support on Wednesday, he felt he should check that their father wasn't about to do the same thing.

"Nothing they can't handle, son." Jeff reassured him. He tried to catch Gordon's eye and give him some indication that he wanted to speak to Alan alone. "Actually he was just calling to check you were all okay and to offer his support." Gordon failed to notice his father's efforts.

He nodded at Jeff's explanation. However, the idea of this episode having a knock on effect on the family business was not so easy to dismiss.

"Scott said you wanted to talk to me." Alan looked across at his father. "So, here I am. What's up?"

Jeff sighed. "Erm," He cleared his throat. "Yes, Son. I did want to talk to you, erm…" He coughed again, as he turned to Gordon.

Gordon merely looked at his father, matching Alan's expectant gaze. It was only when Jeff glared at him and gestured, with his eyes, to the door that Gordon finally understood.

"Oh," He uttered. "Erm… I've just realised. I left my swim stuff in that bag in our room." His eyes grew wide at the utter absurdity off the excuse. He found himself glancing at his father for some kind of back up. "If I don't put it in soak straight away…" He shook his head, pulling a pained and awkward expression. "It'll reek of chlorine. I'd better go do that... now. Right now." He finished, struggling to complete the sentence. "I'll wait for you down there. Bye." He turned for the door and practically ran the small space, breathing a sigh of relied when it closed behind him.

Jeff smiled across at Alan, where he watched his brother's exit suspiciously. "You could have just said you wanted to talk to me alone." Alan frowned.

Jeff was taken aback by the bluntness of the comment. Nonetheless, he gestured to one of the plush armchairs. "Sit down, Son." Alan obliged silently, taking in a deep breath and watching his father carefully.

"Dad," Alan sighed. "What's all this about? Is everything okay?"

Jeff sat down in the chair alongside him with a sigh. "It's just…I didn't get the opportunity to speak to you yesterday, after the interview. And I've been with Virgil this morning. I just wanted to check you were okay."

Alan raised his eyebrows, not for one second believing that comment in its entirety. "I'm fine." He swallowed awkwardly. "You could have asked me that in front of Gordon." He observed.

Jeff seemed to ignore the last comment. "How's your shoulder?"

Alan shrugged, subconsciously kneaded the injured limb. "Still sore. I think I slept awkwardly last night, that won't have helped." In honesty, he'd spent the night resting on his injured side. In order to watch Gordon, for any signs that he might not be asleep.

"Speaking of sleep." Jeff looked up at him seriously. "How are the nightmares?"

Alan looked to the floor, irritated by the assumption. "What makes you so sure I've been having nightmares?" He became immediately defensive.

"Virgil said he's had a few." Jeff kept his voice soft. Ignoring the edge to Alan's tone. "I know I have. In fact, I dare say everyone has. It wasn't exactly a pleasant experience for any of us."

"I'm sorry." Alan apologised automatically.

Jeff frowned. "What for?"

"It's my fault." Alan muttered with a shrug.

Jeff's frown deepened. "What do you mean it's your fault?"

"I'm the one who caused all the problems." Alan replied softly. "I'm the one that crashed the car and I'm the reason you're all here."

"And thank goodness we were all here." Jeff sighed. "This weekend has been tough, I'm not denying that. Those few moments when we knew it was you in the car, but we didn't know if you were dead or alive. They were the longest few moments of my life. But Son, I would rather go through that a thousand times than have you deal with this on your own."

Alan swallowed, smiling softly. "I'm glad you were here too." He admitted.

"It's not your fault. So," Jeff sighed. "Tell me about these nightmares."

"It's nothing Dad." He assured his father. "Really, it's fine. Gordy and I can handle it."

Content that Alan was accepting Gordon's help on that front Jeff went on. "And what about Gordon? Or is that nothing too?" He asked smoothly.

"Gordon?" Alan frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't follow. What's any of this got to do with Gordon?"

"Don't insult my intelligence Alan; I'm not stupid. Your face at the mention of his name this morning told me far more than any explanation could. And his absence didn't exactly go unnoticed." Jeff pointed out as Alan hung his head. "Son?" Jeff prodded for an explanation.

"Last night, I said some things to Gordon that I shouldn't have." Alan began. "I was upset and I lashed out at him." He sighed remorsefully. "This morning, he didn't want to be anywhere near me and I can't blame him for that."

"And now?"

"We're okay, I think." He shrugged. "We were going to go and get something to eat. He's hungry." Alan explained. He was about to go on further when his 'phone rang. He pulled it from his jacket pocket and glanced at the screen. "Oh… It's Simon …. from Ferrari US." He said hesitantly.

"Well, take it." Jeff nodded. "I'll have a word with him myself."

At that comment, Alan cancelled the call. "No, it's okay Dad. I'll call him back later."

"The sooner you talk to him, the sooner you can get the car fixed." Jeff frowned. "The costs not a problem, just call him back."

"No, Dad. There's no rush .…"

"No rush!" Jeff exclaimed. "Of course there's a rush. Here, I'll call him." He announced. Moving as if to reach for his 'phone.

"No Dad, stop!" Alan called. "I need to talk to you first, there's something you should know." He paused, looking to his father nervously. "You see Dad, I … I err I think I'm going to sell the Ferrari. I've decided I'm not racing anymore." He looked up to his fathers face; surprised at his lack of expression. "But you knew that already, didn't you?" He realised with a heavy sigh. "Virgil." He cursed as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Virgil didn't say anything." Jeff lied. "When were you planning on telling me?"

"When I'd decided." Alan replied quickly.

"So, you haven't come to a decision yet then?" Jeff concluded.

"No." Alan agreed. "Not really. I promised the others I'd wait until after Wednesday. They seem to think I'll feel differently then." He added bitterly.

"And what do you think?" Jeff asked.

Alan sighed. Shaking his head and shrugging. "I don't know. If the report on Wednesday favours me, which they all think it will. Then yeah, I guess I will feel differently. But then again, I'm not so sure the report will favour me. "

"Why not? It was an accident. Accidents happen." Jeff stated with a frown.

"Accident's don't happen; they're caused. What if there was something that I could have done, that would have prevented all this from happening? Something that would have stopped Mark from dying and stopped Virgil from getting hurt. I just didn't do it." Alan theorised.

"Do what? What could you have possibly have done?" Jeff asked with a frown of confusion.

"I don't know. Something." Alan shrugged. "I'm not sure what, I'm sure they'll point it out on Wednesday." He sighed. "Just before they take my licence away and end my career on the track for good."

"You sound like you've given up." Jeff pointed out. "You want to sell the car, you want to quit racing and now you're saying you're sure the investigation will go against you." He sighed loudly, running a hand over his hair. "I'm not going to lie to you Son, getting back in that car will be one of the hardest things you'll have ever done. But you'll do it, because it's who you are. We're not in the business of giving up."

"Don't you see?" Alan swallowed, shaking his head. "I'm not giving up Dad. I tried, I tried my hardest and I failed. I'm not a successful race driver, I'm not even good."

"That's not true. You are good, you're very good. You wouldn't be here if you weren't good. And you certainly wouldn't have made it into this class. Alan, you don't fail at something until you give up trying." Jeff leant forward so as he was even closer to his son. "If you quit the car now. That's when you'll have given up and that's when you'll have failed."

"Then maybe I'm a failure, because I don't think I can do that Dad. Knowing I'm responsible for a man's death on the track and then going on to race. It just wouldn't be right."

"You're acting as though it's a foregone conclusion that you were responsible. There's any number of reasons you lost control; it could have been faults on the wheels or the tires." Jeff suggested.

"Sam and Virgil checked the brake pads after the qualifier. The tires, wheels and braking systems were all functioning perfectly." Alan dismissed the idea.

"Okay well, we've had problems with the transmission before. It could have been a faulty component there." Jeff made another suggestion.

Alan shook his head again. "Highly unlikely. Ferrari US refitted the transmission. I doubt they'd make a mistake like that."

"I don't see why not. They're a big company but they're not infallible." Jeff frowned. "And there's a lot to a transmission system."

"No Dad." Alan shook his head again. "Ferrari US don't make mistakes; not like that."

"Why not?" Jeff continued to question. "We're a big company but we still make mistakes. There's a whole number of things that could go wrong with the transmission. Most of which could cause you to spin. A clutch problem could have the same effect, couldn't it?"

"No." Alan still disagreed. "What's more likely Dad? A huge, multi-million dollar company like Ferrari US made a mistake, or little me?" The silence was his only response. "Exactly."

"What about Sam?" Jeff asked softly. He wasn't sure what kind of response he'd get for voicing these thoughts but decided to go ahead anyway.

"What about Sam?" Alan questioned. Frowning and shaking his head at the comment.

"The first time he takes on the responsibility of chief mechanic and this happens." Jeff shrugged. "You're not exactly a nobody Son." He pointed out. "Sam had access to the car throughout and he's in a position of responsibility that he's not used to."

Alan blinked. "Are you insinuating that Sam may have missed something?" He paused for a moment to shake his head in shock at the comment and narrow his brow in irritation. "Why Sam, why not Virgil? He was part of the mechanical team too. It wasn't just Sam that was responsible for the running of the car."

"I'm not necessarily thinking of an unintentional mistake Son." Jeff glanced up almost nervously as Alan seemed to slowly process his words.

"Not unintentional? So… So you mean intentionally?" Alan questioned. "You think Sam sabotaged my car?" Alan's voice rose in horror at the utterance. "I can't believe you'd say that! Sam has done so much for me with this car, and my racing; I can't believe you'd even consider that!" Alan got to his feet, beginning to pace in pure disbelief at his fathers insinuation. "Sam's …. Sam's my friend. More than that, he's one of Virgil's closest friends. He would never, never do anything to hurt me, or Virgil. He thinks of Virgil as a brother, for crying out loud!" Alan turned to his father, waving his hands erratically. "Jesus Dad! You're not just barking up the wrong tree, you're not even in the right forest!" He exclaimed.

"Okay, okay!" Jeff sighed. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make it sound as though I was accusing Sam. I just think sabotage should be considered. You're a high profile case and I don't mean because of our affluent financial situation. You show a hell of a lot of talent on that track."

Alan was shaking his head. "No." He stated emphatically. "There wasn't a moment when either me, Virgil or Sam wasn't with the car. We were working on it, right up until I went out." Alan sighed. "Sabotage just wasn't possible Dad. I think maybe we should accept the fact that I could have been wrong."

Jeff shook his head. "I don't believe that."

"Well, we've already established it's the most likely thing to have happened." Alan concluded glumly.

"When you buy a lottery ticket, it's most likely you'll lose. That doesn't mean people don't win." Jeff told him firmly. "Son, I don't want you to make any rash decisions and I don't want you to worry about anything unnecessarily." Jeff paused. "We're all here to help you; you just have to say the word."

"Thanks Dad." Alan smiled. "I appreciate you guys being here. I know I don't show it sometimes, but I do."

"We know." Jeff smiled. "Just like you know, right?"

"Right." Alan agreed. A short silence followed that Alan took eagerly as his chance to leave. "I'd better get going. Gordon will be waiting." He got to his feet.

Jeff nodded; he draped an arm around Alan's shoulders as they walked towards the door. "I know you're all adults now, you included. But you'll always be my sons and I'll always support you, all of you."

"Even if Scott's gets a boyfriend." Alan joked with a mischievous grin. "And Gordon wants surgically implanted gills?"

Jeff frowned with a smile, pleased even though a little suspicious at this remarkable change in Alan's attitude. "Even if Scott somehow acquires a boyfriend and Gordon wants surgically implanted gills." He paused. Smiling at the way Alan's grin actually reached his eyes. "And even if this investigation doesn't go our way. It doesn't change anything. Whatever happens and whatever you decide, you know we'll support you. I'll support you."

They paused at the door and Alan instinctively pulled his arms up around his father's neck. Surprised by the sudden contact, Jeff hesitated before melting to the embrace. The strength with which Alan held him, squeezing every inch of life out of him, was testament to his young sons fear. The thought though, that his father would believe in him no matter what, was more than a little reassuring to hear. They were words he not only wanted to hear; but also needed to hear. And for the first time, Alan began to consider the possibly that he could do this. Whatever the outcome, he could be strong for his family and with their support; he could come through it in one piece.

XxxxX

Scott eventually found Sam and John in the latter's hotel room. Scott knocked flippantly. A gesture more than anything, before pushing the unlocked door open and striding into the room. John looked up from the small laptop computer he tapped feverishly at and, with a nod, acknowledged his oldest brother's presence.

"Hey, thought I'd find you guys in here." Scott plopped himself down into one of the armchairs and cocked his head to one side to stare over John's shoulder at the small screen. "How are you getting on?" He asked, genuinely interested.

"Well," John started distractedly. "We've had a few problems getting the program to load properly but we got there eventually. We've just loaded the digital pictures so, any minute now we should find where it's stored them." John was saying vaguely as he frowned at the screen. "The screens on these laptops are too small to see properly so I've managed to create a WAVO connection through the TV. That should give us a better picture. And Sam's been working on recreating the track." John paused. "So hopefully, when I do this." The computer whirred softly and within minutes, the television sprung to life with a rotating three-dimensional picture of the car.

Scott looked at him blankly. "So WAVO means through the television?" He asked with a sarcastic grin.

John glared at him. "WAVO is wireless audio and visual output; it means we can use the television as a medium." Scott shook his head blankly, uninterested. "They've been doing this for years Scott; it's hardly ground breaking technology." John told his brother in disgust. "Okay, here are the pictures Sam. Have you loaded that mechanical diagram?"

"It's coming." Sam said as he ejected the disc from his own computer and passed it over to John. "Here."

"Okay now if we, blow up this picture of the wreckage to the same size as the diagram." Sam was saying as he concentrated on doing exactly that. "And run an evaluation report, it should give us an estimate of what the damage is. Or at least one possibility." He waited as the computer obeyed his orders and droned again; both John and Sam watched it intently. Scott however stared around the room, uninterested in there technical exchange. "I was planning to reconstruct the crash." Sam was saying as he shrugged slightly. "I thought it might give us a better idea of what could have happened." He explained to Scott's questioning stare. "So if we load the track up next, it should give us some kind of reconstruction that we can then tweak a bit."

Meanwhile Scott spotted a small silver box. About as deep as a book and the size of a small laptop computer, he reached out for it, intrigued as to what it was. Picking it up, he turned the object over in his hands before opening it to reveal a flat screen and very few keys.

"Hey Sam, what's this?" He asked with a frown, picking up the two black discs that had been discarded alongside the object.

"Oh, they're the discs from the cameras on the car." Sam sighed. He dismissed Scott's question quickly, turning to John instead. "John this isn't working." He said impatiently.

"Here, let me have a look. It could just be the size of the information we're asking it to compare, be patient." John took over at the computer, frowning and tapping away as he muttered to himself.

"Alan has cameras on his car?" Scott asked to no one specific. Surprise and intrigue screwing his dark features into a frown. "I didn't know that." He muttered as he experimented with the silver gadget.

"Yeah." Sam said as he sat down alongside the pilot; evidently tired of being patient. "Here." He took the silver box from Scott and flicked a switch causing the screen to flicker into being. "You put the disc in here." He gestured to a slot on the side. "And then you can play them back. It's so as Alan can evaluate his race from the comfort of his own paddock." Sam smirked.

"So how does it work?" Scott enquired.

Sam glanced up to John who was still tapping away, before turning back to explain further. "Well, normally when Alan's racing he records his laps through two cameras. An external one here." He reached out to the flat screen television where a three dimensional model GX10 was now spinning. He tapped at the screen between the headlights, where the grill sat. "And another one inside the car." Sam continued on, he could see Scott was listening carefully and nodding occasionally in understanding and amazement.

"It records sound too." Sam continued on, since he had a captive audience. "You see, inside Alan's crash helmet is a microphone that's connected to headsets that Virgil and I have on. It's so as we can communicate; if we know he's coming into the pits than we can be prepared to help him." He explained with a grin and a soft sigh. "These discs record everything that's said."

"Hold on a minute." Scott frowned. "If he can record the laps and look at them back in the paddock. Why didn't Virgil just look at the footage? Why did he need to go in the car in the first place?"

"That's what I said." John smirked, waving a hand as he still struggled with the compact computer in front of him.

Sam waved a hand indicating for them both to be quiet and that the question was irrelevant. "Because Alan forgot to put a disk in the recorder for the qualifier. If he'd recorded the warm up, he'd have gone straight to the grid and there was no way either of us could have advised him. So Virgil offered to sit in. He wanted to hear how the gears held up under the strain of that hairpin bend, anyway that doesn't matter." He waved his hand again; Scott smirked at the gesture as it reminded him of a nutty professor. "These recording's are of the race. I just haven't had time to look at them yet and to be honest; I don't know what good they'll be. I'd be surprised if they play properly after the beating the car took."

"Who forgets to put cameras in their own car? That kid gives blondes a bad name!" John complained, with a smirk.

Scott laughed at the comment. "So can we play them now?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, if you like, but I don't know whether they'll even work." He watched Scott fumble with the technology for a while. Eventually taking it out of his hands with a smug grin and succinctly placing the first disc into its holder. "Would you look at this John?" Sam teased. "State of the art jet plane pilot but he can't operate a simple disc player."

John smirked. "You think that's bad, you should see him in the …" He trailed off. "Whoa! Here we go." He said excitedly as Sam jumped to his feet and sat down alongside him. "Right now if I do this…" He trailed off as he clicked and tapped appropriately. "There, now it should… do that!" He exclaimed with a grin of achievement.

Their voices trailed off into insignificant mumblings to Scott. Tapping away on the touch screen of the disc player, he was rewarded when, within seconds; an image appeared. "This must be the external camera." Scott thought aloud to himself. Sam and John were far too engrossed in their reconstruction to hear him.

To begin with, the picture had been steady but after a sudden lurch, it spun wildly. Turning the surrounding scenery into a blur of colours.

"Whoa!" Scott blinked, looking away as the spinning action made him dizzy. The rotating started to slow and a figure suddenly came into sight. It rolled away from the picture and brightly coloured flack jackets could also be seen approaching from the distance.

Scott instantly recognised the red race suit and helmet. "There's Alan." He muttered, frowning in concentration.

There was a jolt on the screen before it shuddered and came to a halt, wobbling a bit before it steadied off. 'That must be Mark's car hitting Al's.' Scott thought to himself as he watched, absorbed by the unfolding drama. In the distance, he could see Alan push himself unsteadily to his feet and urgently remove his helmet before running back towards the wreck. Scott could see he was shouting something, he presumed it be his brother's name but he didn't get close enough to see. Three or four brightly coloured jackets reached out to him and despite his struggling against them, led him in the opposite direction.

There were a few minutes footage of Alan being led away, not without complaint. Then, to Scott's surprise, the camera wobbled again. A much more violent judder this time that caused it to fall. Scott had to close his eyes for a few seconds as the picture jumped about, before it came to rest with only a view of the grey tarmac. He let it roll for a bit longer just to check that there was nothing else on it before Sam's voice penetrated his concentration.

"Come and look at this Scott." Sam was saying as he hovered over John's shoulder. "We'd better save that one for your Dad; he's going to want to see it."

Scott peered between the two blondes to see a replica of Alan's car. More specifically, the wreckage of his car, alternating from one viewpoint to another. The three-dimensional diagrams allowed the mechanics of the car to be revealed. In his amazement, it took him a few minutes to realise Sam was giving him a commentary. "And you see where the wheel arch is, we'll have to check the steering. That doesn't look good. If the whole chassis had been jolted out of line, it might be more serious than I thought. If there's more structural damage there, it might mean a complete re-model. That could be expensive and time consuming too. I wish I could have had time to go over the car properly." He sighed.

"Pass me that disc, will you?" John was saying. "I'll load the track next." Sam obliged, asking if he could do anything to help. "No, give Scott a lesson in how to use a disc player." John replied, with a smug smirk.

Sam smiled back but turned his attention to Scott nonetheless. "Have you watched it?" He asked, gesturing to the open silver box as Scott sat back down and put it on his lap. "Did it work?"

"Yeah it worked okay." Scott shrugged. "But there's not a lot on it. The first one was the external camera; it was just lots of spinning scenery and Alan being dragged away by men in fluorescent jackets."

"Makes a change from men in white coats!" Sam joked as he handed Scott the second disc. "This is the one from inside the car; it probably won't work very well. It looks like all the jolting scratched it." He held the disc up to the light for a few seconds, inspecting it before passing it on.

Scott took the black disc and placed it in the correct slot. The monitor lit up brightly as an image of Alan filled the screen. Wide blue, adrenaline fuelled eyes stared back, hard with concentration. His helmet visor hovered above his head enabling a sudden smirk to light up his, otherwise serious features. The sound removed Scott could only watch the pictures roll.

"We have sound on this one. Here." Sam reached forward to a gauge on the bottom of the screen and suddenly the dull, roar of the engine could be heard bellowing in the background. The camera shook gently with the vibrations of the car and Alan was now laughing as both of his gloved hands griped the steering wheel tightly.

"Sounds like we picked up some engine noise too." Sam commented as he leaned across the bed, peering over Scott's shoulder so as he could see. The film continued to play on the small screen that rested in the older mans lap.

"He didn't mean it like that Al." Virgil's deep voice could be heard clearly, in his usual role of pacifier.

"He doesn't understand. He thinks none of us have matured any, since we were like fifteen! I'm tired of him treating me as if…." There was a pause as Alan concentrated. "As if I was a kid. I'm not a kid anymore." Virgil's voice could be heard on the playback; a failed attempt at butting in. "I know he's the eldest and I know he's not had it easy Virg, but this is ridiculous. He still acts as though we're all little kids that need protecting from the big bad world! He makes me feel as though I…." Another pause, as he concentrated. "I'm lazy, but I'm not. The racings the hardest…I'm not lazy. And I'm not arrogant…"

"We know you're not Al." Sam's voice filtered through the speakers. "Now concentrate. Forget about Scott, we'll talk to him later."

The pilot turned his attention away from the screen at the comment to give Sam a questioning stare. The recipient coughed awkwardly, smiled sheepishly and went back to watching the tragedy unfurl.

"He's right." Virgil agreed. "Concentrate, Mark'll be backing off soon. You should've seen the way he took the first bend Sam; he barely came off the gas." Virgil told the mechanic. "And he's so close to Al's tail, he's practically in the trunk."

"He's just sore because I kicked his butt in the qualifier." Alan announced jovially.

"Alright," Virgil sighed. "We're nearing that bad bend and he can't stay that close to you through that." He paused. "Now, listen for the change in the engine." Another pause; the engine clattering in the background. "As soon as you hear her start to struggle, change. Got it?"

"Yeah." Alan replied. "I got it, I am the expert here remember?" The picture wobbled slightly. Scott assumed from the natural vibrations of the car but then thought it might've been a scratch on the disc.

"Now, Al! Now!" Virgil's shout, over the whine of the engines was clearly audible through the speakers.

What followed Scott could only describe as horrific.

The engine screeched so loudly that Sam reached for the volume control and turned it down. Scott thought it had drowned out his brother's voices. But as the screaming continued, he realised that it wasn't just the engines or the tyres. He could hear both his brothers wailing too. Cursing that his Grandmother would be horrified at, as the car spun at a frightening speed out of control. The camera trained on Alan began shaking violently as it spun with him. Illustrating the tension the car was under; Alan's head shook fiercely with the spinning momentum.

"Argh!" Alan grunted, the force of the spin prevented him from taking any control of the car. He glanced down at the instrumentation in front of him. Reaching forward and hitting the button that would cut all power to the engine.

"The revs!" Virgil was yelling over the engine, his voice strained with terror and physical exertion. "Al, it'll blow, we've got to get out!"

"Virg' … Al …. 'ear me?" Sam's voice faltered through the speakers. "… 'you 'kay?" There was a pause. " 'omeone 'swer me.

"I guess they couldn't hear me." Sam muttered to himself as he too watched the film continue, in utter shock.

The camera showed Alan turn to his passenger, before Virgil's hand reached out to his chest and hit the emergency release button on his harness. "Jump!" Virgil was yelling as Alan began to manoeuvre the released safety belt away from his arms and pushed his visor down.

"I can't!" Alan was yelling back. "We're going too fast!"

There was a grunt of exertion followed by a muttered curse from the older brother. Scott though, could only see Alan being shaken around like a rag doll. "What is it?" Alan asked shakily.

"You've got to get out!" Virgil replied. Scott frowned at his brother's tone of voice, it sounded strained. More so than before.

"What about you?" Alan was questioning. There was a jolt as the car spun into something and then continued to spiral.

It was only when Virgil hesitated that Scott realised his discovery. He had tried to release the safety harness and it had failed, but he didn't want to have to tell Alan that. Probably for fear that the younger man would refuse to leave him, Scott thought. He watched on as Virgil's reply came eventually.

"I'll follow. We're slowing down now, jump! Go on, jump!" The camera continued to vibrate but the fabric of Alan's suit close up obscured the view.

Scott frowned as he watched the display, thoroughly disturbed. "What's he doing?" He muttered.

"Getting ready to jump." Sam informed him. "Exactly the way they teach you in training by the look of it. Helmet on, head tucked down, arms tucked in and legs together. You're supposed to hit the ground rolling." Sam let out a low breath. "They must've still been spinning pretty fast though; he's mighty brave. God knows how he got off so lightly." Sam said in awe. "His suit will have protected him a bit but not completely." He winced at the sounds that were coming from the screen.

Scott turned his attention back to the screen where Alan's boot connected with the camera and it was knocked out of line. It wobbled for a while, not really focusing on anything until eventually, it came to a stop. Trained on Virgil now, Scott could see as well as hear his brothers every distress. Scott frowned again as Alan's legs came into the frame and then disappeared as his youngest brother let out a yell punctuated only by painful grunts. Sam found himself shuddering at the sound.

Scott watched on as Virgil was frantically trying to release his safety harness. The mechanism having locked; his gloved hands worked feverishly at releasing himself somehow. His uneven, panicked breathes where audible through the speakers as muttered cursing interspersed groans of exertion. The harder he tried to break the restraints designed to hold him in place, the more haggard his breathing became. And consequentially, the more desperate he sounded. His fingers fumbled with the gold coloured release mechanism and he pulled on it agitatedly. As if by continuing to work the broken catch, it would miraculously release. Scott felt his stomach lurch at the fear and desperation his brother was experiencing as he squirmed around in the seat, desperate for some kind of escape. He closed his eyes for a second; Virgil's distress becoming too much for him to watch. However, the grunts of exertion continued to penetrate his hearing.

When Scott opened his eyes again, he saw his brother glance to one side. Virgil's eyes widened before he resumed his attempts to free himself with renewed vigour and anguish. Then came the tell tale screeching of tyres, moments before a sickeningly loud bang and the sound of metal impacting metal. The camera wobbled again, focussing now solely on Virgil. There was a sickening squeal as metal folded underneath the pressure of the impact and the hissing of air and steam suddenly became louder than the dying whine of the engines. Above it all, Virgil's breathing resounded around them. The harsh, gasped breaths, accompanied by soft, yet painful groans. His breathing worsened and he could be heard spluttering for breath as he struggled to contain the obvious agony in his chest. Panic continually threatening to consume him.

The pitiful display had long since drawn John's attention.

"Oh my God." The blonde Tracy muttered from his position alongside Sam.

"That must've been Mark's car hitting." Sam assumed, frowning.

Panting to get his breathing under control, Virgil brought trembling hands up to his helmet. With a grunt, he removed the object, and tossed it aside.

Sam tutted. "He knows better than to do that." He muttered to himself, quietly.

Virgil's face contorted with the pain that the short and panicked breaths were causing him. Scott winced, having seen the damage to Virgil's chest; he was more than a little sympathetic towards his brother. Virgil's hair was tousled from the helmet and his face red from the exertion of his attempted escape. He was evidently concerned about the noises around him and looked around wildly, clearly afraid. Scott watched with growing pity as Virgil's eyes and expression portrayed his every feeling and its intensity, far too accurately.

He needed to distract himself from the raw emotion before he imploded. Finally, he found his voice. "When we were at the hospital he told me Mark's car hitting was the last thing he remembered. He passed out not long after." Scott frowned as he watched his brother go back to struggling against the restraint of the harness that held him. As the film continued to roll, he found himself watching in horror as the nightmare continued and Virgil showed no signs of losing consciousness… …


	15. Confrontation

Authors Note: Thanks to those who took the time to review the last chapter. Please feel free to let me know your thoughts, I'd appreciate knowing which aspects of a story readers enjoy as well as those aspects which haven't invoked such enjoyment.

Chapter Fifteen – Confrontation

Scott's frown deepened as Virgil's struggling suddenly stopped and he turned to Alan's vacated seat. Concentrating on his brother's lips, Scott tried to work out what he was saying. "Can you turn it back up Sam?" He enquired.

The blonde man obliged in time to hear a soft moan. "Virg… Virgil?" Hacking coughs could be heard faintly as the voice called out again weakly. "Virgil? That you?"

"Mark?" Virgil's reply was much clearer though still as rough. He squinted against the vast amounts of steam loitering around him, in an effort to see. "You alright?" He gasped out.

"I ... I'm stuck." The dim reply came, clearly panicked. "The … the steering wheel it's trapped my legs…" Mark could be heard choking, coughing on the oxygen he so readily needed. "I ... can't feel them." He spoke again but it wasn't clear enough to be heard; a mumble that the microphone wasn't powerful enough to detect. "You got to help me Virgil, please!" Suddenly Mark shouted. It seemed shrill compared to the soft, faint tones they'd be listening to.

Virgil was still struggling with his own breathing, but nevertheless took a few obviously painful breaths. His voice wasn't as clear as when he had his helmet on but still, when he spoke it was clearer than Marks. "Just calm down Mark and stay still." Virgil encouraged. "We'll be alright. They'll be coming to get us out right now." He struggled against his harness, showing no signs of giving. "We'll be fine." He repeated, less enthusiastically. "Just sit tight."

The sound of both engines whining to a stop emphasised the otherwise morbid silence that hung in the air. The hissing of steam and ominous but erratic creaking of metal around them where the only sounds to break it. The perceived silence seemed ironic when there was so much happening around them. Virgil found his mind wandering to subjects of no relevance and tried hard to refocus on getting out.

"Virgil?" Eventually Mark shouted out once more. "Virgil, you're still there, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Virgil realised his low, exhausted response probably wouldn't have been heard. "Yeah." He repeated louder. "I'm still here Mark." He continued to tug at the restraints relentlessly.

"I don't want to die." His reply could be heard.

Scott frowned at his brother's tortured expression as Virgil's writhing halted. He took a few minutes to swallow and control his breathing. The panic held in his eyes was disturbing enough. However, Scott could see that Virgil was beginning to accept the fact that he wasn't likely to get out of that chair. As a result, his attempts at breaking free were becoming feeble. Scott presumed the mixture of the shock and physical exertion had exhausted his brother to the point of miserable acceptance.

"You're not going to die Mark." Virgil shouted back. "We'll get out of here. We just have to sit tight, until they can come and get us out." Scott found himself holding his breath unconsciously as he focused on the way Virgil's lips trembled. Virgil's tone was a far cry from his usual confident and secure demeanour. He was frightened and timorous "They'll get us out, you'll see." Virgil muttered. He began struggling again. Twisting and turning around in the chair, desperately thrashing about for an escape.

"Virgil, Virgil!" Mark was screaming, the panic in his voice unmistakable.

Virgil stopped, taking in deep breathes again as he turned away from the camera in Mark's direction. "Yeah?" Was all he could manage this time.

"I … I can smell…. I can … I think…." There was a crackling sound that reminded Scott of a firework being lit and then silence. Horrible deafening silence.

"Mark?" Virgil called. "Mark, you still with me?"

Mark's only reply was sudden but loud incoherent screams, ear piercingly shrill.

Scott watched his brother's face drop. The colour drained from his cheeks until he looked ill and his eyes bulged. Suddenly Virgil was reaching across, as far as the restraints would allow him. Stretching every muscle in his body, despite the merciless pain it brought him.

"The extinguisher." Sam muttered, glancing at Scott and John's equally horrified frowns. "There's a fire extinguisher behind Al's seat; that's what he's reaching for."

Virgil was muttering incoherently as he cursed, unable to reach the fire fighting equipment. He swore, before controlling his panicked breathing, taking a moment to compose himself in the confusion. He tried again, whimpering as the pain exploded in his chest and his frantic attempts proved futile. "Damn it!" He growled, lashing out and hitting at the interior where the fire extinguisher was poised, mocking him. The camera wobbled slightly as the impact of Virgil's fist reverberated through the framework of the car.

In the background, Mark could still be heard. "Virgil please! I'm begging you, help me!" He was crying out, gasping for breath between his sobs. "Help me!" His pleading dissolved into gut wrenching sobbing. The chilling cries echoed around the morbid mood that hung in the room. More distressing than words could ever be.

Scott watched Virgil halt his reaching for the extinguisher and turn slowly to face Mark, gasping as he did. "Mark!" He shouted as he leant forward in his chair, reaching an arm out. As if, somehow he could contact the trapped driver. Suddenly Virgil's eyes bulged further, the terror and revulsion in them clear to see. He began to shudder with the shock at the horrific scene he watched.

"No!" Virgil screamed. Screwing his eyes shut tightly he suddenly cowered back, bringing his hands up to cover his face. A loud bang rocked the car and Virgil pushed his body against the furthest corner of the seat. As the rumbling came to a stop, the camera focused once more. He hesitantly removed his trembling hands, his breath coming in laboured gasps. The way he reached the back of his hand up to his mouth, coupled with his stark white complexion Scott was sure he was going to vomit.

Instead though, he closed his eyes and pushed his head up against the headrest of the seat. Breathing deeply and fumbling once more with the golden clasp that held his harness in place. His void emotional expression became more concerning to Scott than the fear and desolation he had seen in his brothers eyes before. Now there was nothing; Virgil's face portrayed absolutely nothing. The medium that had informed Scott so accurately became only a blank canvass. Vacant spaces filled eyes that had before, portrayed so much intensity and emotion. It was almost as if in that moment, Virgil had just switched off all emotional reaction to the situation; and that, Scott found more disturbing then anything.

Scott wasn't sure whether the moisture making rivers down his brother's cheeks was sweat, tears or possibly both. "Got to get out." Virgil was mumbling. Most of it was confused and inarticulate jabbering, however parts of sentences were decipherable. "Got to … got to move." He let his head fall forward, lacking the energy to control the movement anymore. His eyes kept wandering in the direction of Alan's seat, but he never let them linger long.

Turning back, he struggled again. The car filled with steam and he began to cough, further hindering his escape. He was clearly confused and disorientated. "Got to…. Got to…." There was a gentle moan as his eyes rolled back and his head lolled forward. The only thing holding him in place; the restraints, still holding strong. In that same moment, shouts in the distance could be heard as rescuers approached.

Scott watched the rise and fall of Virgil's chest for a few moments but his breathing didn't seem to even out. In spite of that, the older man remained mesmerised by the screen, too shocked to display any real reaction. He wasn't sure how long he'd been watching it, before a hand reached through the open window to Virgil's neck. Slowly but surely, holding two fingers there for a while. "This one's alive." He heard the shout, presumably from the hand that searched for Virgil's pulse. Now gently holding his brother's limp head back against the seat with both hands. "Hey, there's still power in this car, what's that red light?"

"It's a camera. Must be running straight off a battery, hold on…" With that, the picture went snowy and they were left to stare at a blank screen.

Silence reigned for a very long time. Shocked, stunned, traumatised silence.

John swallowed. "Poor Virgil." He sighed. At a loss of what else to say, he turned to his oldest brother. "Scott? Scott, are you alright?"

It was only when Sam reached out to the pilot's shoulder, he responded. "Hmm, what?"

"He asked if you were okay." Sam repeated, a concerned frown directed at Scott.

Scott nodded, getting to his feet. "I'm fine." He quickly composed himself. The devastation faded away as he masked his own feelings with assertion of authority. A technique years of practice had taught him was always effective. "Has anyone else seen this?" He asked, pushing down the screen of the disc player with a little more force than was necessary.

Sam shrugged. "The investigators will have taken a copy. I presume that's why it started where it did and not from the beginning."

Scott nodded. "Right, here's what we do. Don't mention this to anyone okay?" He ordered. "And I mean anyone. That includes Virgil, and especially Dad and Alan."

John and Sam both nodded. "What are you going to do Scott?" John asked nervously.

"I think it's about time Virgil and I had that talk you suggested John." Scott said his own voice shaking on the inside, but confident and determined on the out.

"Scott," John was saying softly, quick to dissuade his brother from doing anything rash. "I don't think we should rush into doing anything. Sit down and I'll get you a drink; we'll talk about this. We need to think it through. We don't want to make things worse."

"Worse?" Scott questioned incredulously. "And how the hell could we make things any worse?" John glared at the terse response before pushing passed Scott. "What?" Scott called after him.

"He's right Scott." Sam seconded. "Just give yourself a minute to calm down. Yeah? You're upset." He suggested, getting to his feet and gesturing to one of the chairs. "Here, sit down."

"I don't need to sit down." Scott growled. "Just do as I say and forget you've seen it. I'll handle it."

John returned. "It's not like it's something we can just forget like that. Here," He held out one of the glass tumblers in his hand to Scott, who looked up at him. Instantly he shook his head, but John pushed the amber liquid into his chest further. "Drink it." He affirmed. Not really needing any more incentive, Scott took the proffered drink. John went on to pass a glass to Sam before taking a hold of his own and calmly sitting down.

Scott watched the display of cool composure, a little surprised at John's calmness. He gulped down the scotch in the glass in his hands and placed it on the side. "I'm going to …"

"No you're not." John spoke over him. Not meeting the older mans annoyed glare. "You're not going anywhere yet." Scott's eyes widened at his usually tame brother's command. Had he not been in total shock at John's attitude, he would have returned fire succinctly. However, John carried on, already anticipating the question that was to follow. "Virgil didn't tell us about this for a reason and you care about him as much as I do. So you're not going to go in there, guns blazing and make a hash of this. The last we thing we want is to upset him."

Scott's eyes and jaw hardened at the truth in his brothers words. "I'm listening." He settled for silently controlling his sense of outrage and letting John go on. Somewhat stiffly, he occupied the opposite chair to his brother and prepared himself to listen.

"Okay," John sighed, leaning back in the chair he occupied. "Now the way I see it, if Virgil would have wanted us to know, he would've told us." Scott began shaking his head in disagreement but John went on anyway. "I think we should let him deal with this; he'll come to us in his own time. He knows where we are when he's ready."

"No." Scott disagreed immediately. "He shouldn't be left on his own. He needs to know we're here for him."

"He knows that Scott." John countered. "And he's managed okay for the last two days."

"Has he?" Scott fired back quickly. "You haven't seen him John! I've lived in the same room as him and I'm telling you, he's not coping." He sighed. "You suggested I talk to him, but I put it off. I was too worried about Alan, and I thought he'd talk to me if he needed it that much. Well, right now I'm thinking it's as good a time to talk as any, don't you?"

"And you think that's a good idea now?" John looked up to him, shaking his head. "I don't know about you but I'm still trying to get my head around this."

"Me too." Sam joined their discussion, his voice portraying his sadness. Scott and John both turned to the young mechanic. He'd been so quiet they'd almost forgotten his presence at all. "Poor Virg," Sam sighed. "What I don't understand is why he didn't say something. Why didn't he tell one of us?"

"He was probably trying to protect Alan." Scott thought aloud. "If he ever found out … He'd be devastated, he'd … Well, it doesn't matter because he's not going to." Scott insisted. "No one breathes a word of this outside this room, not even to each other. Got it?"

"That still doesn't answer the question. He could've told any one of us in confidence without Alan ever finding out. Why didn't he?" John frowned as Sam nodded in Scott's direction.

"I don't know." Scott shrugged. "You've seen the stress we've all been under, maybe he didn't want us to worry. That's not really the point, is it?" He sighed, running a hand over his hair. "It shouldn't have had to come to this. I knew something was wrong, we all did. We were just so wrapped up in making sure Al was okay, that nobody ever said or did anything about it."

"That's not fair." John told him firmly, "This weekend hasn't exactly been a walk in the park for any of us. We can't blame ourselves, what's important is what we do now."

"We've let him down John." Scott helped himself to his second glass of scotch. "And I'm not going to sit back and force him to deal with this on his own. I won't let him down again; once is one time too many in my book."

"This isn't about you." John sighed too, leaning forward in his chair. "It's not about us; it's about Virg and what he wants." He sat back. "Scott, I know I'm not going to stop you from doing whatever you're planning to do. I'm just asking that you think this through, for Virgil's sake."

Scott sat back with a groan. "I know and I am doing this for Virgil's sake, John. Trust me, let me handle this."

"I can't stop you, just… Just go easy with him, Scott. He's been through enough already." John leant forward, his tone becoming pleading. "I know you're mad that he didn't tell you, but I'm sure he had his reasons."

"Reasons?" Scott shook his head sadly. "What reasons? He lied to me; he told me at the hospital he couldn't remember."

"He might not have lied intentionally Scott." Sam reassured the elder Tracy. "You hear about people blocking traumatic experiences out all the time. He was scared; anyone could see he was petrified that he was going to die. And he did lose consciousness in the end; maybe he really doesn't remember."

"Or maybe he doesn't want to." Scott murmured. "Besides, it's not just that he lied to us. It's that he didn't trust any of us enough to confide in us."

John found himself wondering how readily 'us' could be substituted for 'me'.

"This is my point." He sighed, waving the hand that held his glass of scotch in the air. "This isn't about us. It isn't about him lying to us or not confiding in us; it's about us not giving him the opportunity to tell us the truth." He paused. "Virgil, for whatever reason, obviously didn't want us to find out. We should respect that it's his decision to make."

"Not anymore, it's not." Scott said portentously as he got to his feet.

"What are you going to do?" Sam asked frowning.

"Something I've been putting off too long already." Scott smirked sadly. He made his way to the exit hurrying straight out into the hallway. Giving neither of the blondes he left in his wake, a chance to say anything else.

Suddenly he was out in the cool of the corridor and as he leant back on the closed door, he screwed his eyes shut. He took in a deep breath, puffing his chest out before blowing the air out slowly. He felt sick. It wasn't just Alan's recycled opinions about him, it wasn't just the fact that Virgil had hidden this from him and it wasn't the fact that he was responsible for holding it all together. It wasn't even Alan being shaken around like a rag doll, or Virgil desperately fighting against restraints that held him so forcefully. The very pictures he saw when he closed his eyes, knowing it would haunt him for a long time yet. No, it wasn't one or the other; it was all of it. He could handle Alan's opinions and he could handle Virgil being stubborn, but this? This was too much. He pinched the bridge of his nose hard, steeling himself to take the first few steps of a very long journey…

XxxxX

Having searched the gardens and still not found his brother, Scott headed back to their room somewhat deflated. He was more than a little concerned that Virgil might've disappeared again. He tried to put his mind at ease by reassuring himself that Virgil knew he'd been foolish to go on that walk. He'd paid the price too; his ribs hadn't responded well to the exercise. Scott sighed as he stood outside their shared room, fiddling to get the access card out of his pocket.

Internally Scott was cursing himself, thinking he should have trusted his instincts. Deep down he'd known all along that there had been something wrong with his brother. Something he couldn't put his finger on, and something that Virgil was trying to keep from him. He kept thinking that if he'd just pushed a bit harder or not let Virgil keep avoiding the subject. Then maybe, his brother wouldn't have had to deal with this alone. Instead, he had been too busy worrying about Alan. It wasn't so much that he's missed the signs, but more the sheer magnitude of them.

He sighed again, swiping the key and watching the small indicator turn form red to green. Truth be told, he only had himself to blame for the guilt he felt now. Virgil, and to a certain extent the others had made him feel as if he was over reacting. As a result, he'd led things slide that he knew now he shouldn't have. He was tired of being the one to be pushed away, tired of being told he wasn't needed. So, with one more hearty sigh, he stepped into the room. Determined to bring some kind of resolution and order to this mess.

He automatically scanned for any signs of life but to begin with, the room appeared bare. That was, until he caught sight of a pair of legs hanging over one arm of the large sofa and distinctive chestnut hair poking over the side. He felt a certain amount of the weight on his shoulders lift in the form of relief. Unfortunately, the majority of that heavy burden, namely impending conflict, remained and he headed for the small mini bar. Deciding another drink would relax him enough to confront Virgil about all the half truths and deception.

"Hey." He said softly, as he reached for a bottle of Scotch and poured himself a glass. He was surprised at how much his hands trembled. Maybe John and Sam had been right, maybe he was in shock himself. "I thought you were still down in the garden. How did the sketching go?" He chose his words carefully, wanting to appear as normal as possible and not alert Virgil to any undercurrent in his voice. Taking a hold of the bottle by its neck, he ambled over to the sofa. "Virgil?" He called out as he approached the back of the chair. Surprised that he hadn't had some kind of response from his brother, at least an acknowledgment of his presence. "Virg?"

As Scott made his way around to face his brother, he couldn't help but notice that Virgil's head seemed to be lolled to one side. Nor could he help the panic inside of him that surfaced. "Virgil?" He repeated, rushing to circle the sofa.

Scott came to stand in front of his brother, looking down on him with a worried frown. He slowly took in the way Virgil's legs dangled over one arm of the couch. How his back rested against the other arm, his head supported by several cushions. Slowly Scott's vision travelled up to Virgil's head; his eyes tightly closed, and his face relaxed and impassive. It was only when Scott noticed the small pen-shaped object in Virgil's hands; a digital radio, that his worry lessened. He spied the tiny wireless earphones that went with it and let out a sigh of relief.

He watched Virgil dozing peacefully for a few minutes; loathe to rouse him. He was just summoning up the will to do so, when something else caught his attention. He hesitated, his hand inches from Virgil's shoulder. Dumping the scotch bottle he'd brought with him on the table by Virgil's feet, he picked up the open sketchpad that rested on the matching table at his brother's head.

Scott studied the picture carefully. Art had never been his strong point and it wasn't something he appreciated in the same way Virgil did. However, he knew his brother had the same gift their mother did and had realised at a young age that Virgil could have had a promising career in the arts. Virgil however, knew their father would frown upon the idea and had opted for engineering instead.

It took Scott a few minutes to realise what the sketch in front of him depicted. He frowned as he adjusted his handing of the sketchpad until it made sense to him. Two sets of fingers reaching out to each other, just inches from touching. And in the hands of both of them came two very different scenes. Nestled in the hand that reached up was a raging fire, human in form. Its hands were raised in the air as if it was in pain and supplicating to the other depiction. Portrayed on the back of the other hand was a nondescript figure. It was huddled into a small space in one of the corners of the barred enclosure it was imprisoned in. Its arms were wrapped tightly round its legs, and its head hidden. It was cowering away from the bars that were confining it and the raging personified fire that implored it.

Scott's frown deepened and he looking up at his brother to check his eyes remained closed. Flicking the sketchbook back a page, he studied the next sketch and the next. Finding them all of a similar message and continued theme; the two hands almost meeting. He flicked back a few more pages to reveal more doodles and sketches that Scott termed dark or morose, to put it mildly. He ran a hand over his face as he realised the true impact this accident had had on his brother. Closing his eyes in regret, he flickered through the sketchbook again, more slowly. Needing the time to build up the courage to turn each page. The more pages he turned, the more he comprehended Virgil's distress. The poignant sketches that had been so carefully constructed portrayed his brother's agony, Scott thought, a little too effectively. He shuddered, wondering how Virgil had concealed this from him.

"What are you doing?"

The words startled Scott and he very nearly jumped at them; shattering his silence and taking him by surprise. His head snapped up in time to see Virgil remove both of the earpieces. Scott assumed he'd already turned the music off that he was listening to.

"I err, it fell on the floor." Scott snapped the hardback book closed roughly and placed it back on the table. "I was just picking it up." It was a lie and not a very good one at that. When he looked up at Virgil's face, he could see his brother knew that too.

"Right." Virgil was nodding. He leaned over cautiously and deposited both the earpieces and the radio on the table, alongside the sketchbook. Scott watched him carefully, he seemed content to play along with his lie but the older man frowned; it was unusual. Looking at Virgil's sketchpad was the equivalent of reading John's diary; an offence that there was no atonement for.

"I didn't disturb you, did I?" Scott gestured to the discarded radio. Hoping to move the conversation on and not allow Virgil to capitalise on his encroachment.

"No," Virgil shook his head. "No, actually I thought you'd be up here. When you weren't, I didn't have the energy to look anywhere else so I figured I'd wait here for you."

"Are you tired?" Scott questioned anxiously. "You're feeling okay, aren't you?"

Virgil sighed softly. "A little sore, but I'm fine." He paused. That was a lie; he felt terrible. His ribs hurt and he was shattered. Just the short walk to and from the garden had not only exhausted him, but it had made him breathless. A breathlessness that didn't seem to relent with rest. "Actually, I wanted to apologise." He carried on regardless, continuing to hide the extent of his discomfort.

Scott's frowned. "Apologise?" He asked. "What for?" He sensed this would be a long conversation and felt uncomfortable stood where he was. Tapping Virgil's legs he indicated for him to move them and sat down, placing his brother's outstretched legs back in his lap.

"I didn't mean to be so short with you earlier, when I came back with Dad." Virgil paused, looking to his hands guiltily. "I was frustrated and I snapped. You didn't deserve that, I'm sorry." He said finally.

Scott sighed, placing his half consumed glass of scotch on the table. "It's okay." He shook his head. "I know everyone's pretty tense at the minute. You and Al are under a lot of strain right now."

"That's no excuse; I shouldn't have let it get to me." Virgil told his brother firmly. "I'm sorry."

"Was it really that bad?" Scott asked, after a short pause. "The interview?" He expanded.

Virgil shrugged. "Worse, I don't think I did much for our case." He muttered looking longingly at the glass of scotch Scott had placed on the table. "Y'know, I thought I'd prepared myself, but …." He trailed off. "It was horrible. They made out that Alan was some kind of spoilt brat, that Sam was incompetent and that I was some kind of victim of my brother's obsession with success." He sighed again. "And I didn't do a lot to disprove their theory." Virgil concluded sadly. There was a pause and Scott was about to jump in, when he continued. "They twisted everything I said!" He exclaimed. "And when I tried to explain what I really meant they twisted it even more." He let his head loll back against the pillows he'd strategically placed around him.

Scott let him talk; watching him screw his fists up into balls at the frustration he felt. He closed his eyes as a wave of sadness overcame him. "I know this isn't much consolation right now but Sam and Alan said the same thing."

"That just makes it worse!" Virgil exclaimed. "I was expecting it to be bad but not that…" He stumbled over the right word. "Antagonistic." He sighed again, half hoping to improve this breathlessness that only increased when he spoke. He wheezed a little, trying to breathe deeply but only really succeeding in pulling on the muscles in his chest. "When I walked in there, I couldn't possibly understand how they could sanction an inquest into Mark's death. It was an accident, pure and simple." Virgil paused and this time it was long enough for Scott to jump in.

"And now you think they will?" He asked, worried at the possibility.

Virgil's answer came in the form of another mournful sigh as he began fiddling with his fingers. "I don't know if Alan would cope, he's pretty strung out at the minute. Hell, I don't know if I would cope." He said unhappily, his gaze drawn back to the scotch.

"We'd get through it." Scott assured him. "The kid's stronger than you think and so are you." He squeezed his hand where it rested on Virgil's calf causing the younger man to smile forlornly. "Do you really think they will?"

Virgil pulled an uncertain expression, tugging his lips together. "Honestly, I just don't know Scott." He said miserably, not moving his gaze.

"You can't drink, not with the pills you've been taking." Scott told him with a sympathetic frown.

"Who says I want to?" Virgil said defiantly.

"I know you." Scott replied. "I know that look."

"What look?" Virgil matched his brother's frown, boldly inviting his brother to explain that comment further.

"That, 'I'm wound up and I need to relax with a drink' look." Scott told him with a smirk of amusement. "You're more like Dad than you think." He commented, knowing the observation would gratify his brother.

"I've got to admit; I could do with one right now." Virgil acknowledged with a sad but knowing smile.

"Well drinking yourself to oblivion isn't going to help with the investigation. Or the possibility of an inquest and it certainly won't make you feel any better." Scott raised an eyebrow to drill his point home.

"Firstly, I never said anything about multiples; just one would be nice. Secondly, you're not exactly in a position to comment. If any one of us is an advocate of Dad's 'Scotch cures everything' policy, it's definitely you." Virgil returned with a smirk of his own, not having missed the comment about how he was feeling. He was pretty sure this was going to turn into another one of Scott's attempts to talk him through the crash. Virgil had other ideas though; Scott had given him all the ammunition he needed by looking at the sketchbook and he planned to use it.

"If it bothers you, I won't drink either." Scott said in response to his brother terse comment. Gulping down the remainder of the amber liquid and placing the glass tumbler alongside the bottle of scotch, he sat back.

"Don't stop on my account." Virgil shook his head, indicating he really didn't mind and truthfully, he didn't. In fact, he doubted if all the scotch in the world multiplied by a thousand could make him feel any better.

"Trust me," Scott replied. "You're not missing out on anything. It sure as hell isn't making me feel any better."

"Who says I want to feel better?" Virgil asked cryptically, looking up to where Scott had rested his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Popping his eyes open, he sat forward obviously surprised by the comment. Virgil continued. "And how would you know what constitutes better anyway? How would you know what I'm feeling?"

Scott frowned. "You're right, I don't." He studied his brother, knowing only too well that he was heading into volatile territory. "And I'm not likely too while you don't tell me."

Virgil chortled a sarcastic laugh, turning to his brother with a smirk. "I don't need to tell you." He said shrewdly. "You've seen the drawings." He gestured to the sketchbook and watched Scott squirm slightly.

The older man sighed sadly. "I thought you'd be angry." He commented, watching his brother calmly tap his fingers and take deep breathes.

"I am." Virgil replied quickly. "You, of all people, know how I feel about my drawings; they're personal."

Scott could see Virgil was trying to remain as calm as possible, which didn't always equate to Virgil actually being calm. In fact, sometimes it was worse. Virgil hardly ever got angry; even John's temper was more easily ignited.

Angry Virgil was not good, but angry, quiet Virgil was a recipe for sure disaster.

"I didn't mean to pry." Scott began. "I know they're private. I'm sorry, but I was getting desperate. I'm worried about you Virgil; you're hardly eating anything and you won't talk to me. So what did you expect me to do?"

"Respect the fact that I don't want to talk about it." Virgil suggested, the edge to his voice maintained with half an effort.

Scott sighed. "I can't do that." He muttered. "I'm sorry but I can't let you go on like this."

"Like what?" Virgil asked, tiredly looking away from his brother. A patronising smirk threatening to tug his lips into formation.

"Bottling it all up, it's not good for you. How many times have you told me that?" He paused but it seemed no answer was forthcoming from the chestnut haired man. "This isn't how you do things Virgil; it's not how you deal with things."

Virgil laughed again, condescendingly. "Don't tell me how I deal with things! You don't know anything about how I deal with things." He shook his head and reached out for the sketchbook. "Here." He tossed it to his brother. "Take a look if that's what you want, or have you already had a good look?"

Scott picked the book up from where Virgil had thrown it, half in his lap, half on his brother's legs but he didn't open it. "Virgil, I know you're mad. I shouldn't have looked at the sketchbook but don't you see how worried I am?"

"Worried?" Virgil shook his head. "You're not worried about me. You feel helpless because you weren't the one in the car when it spun. And you feel inadequate because there isn't anything anyone can do to change the situation. What's more; it's out of your control and we all know how much you hate things being out of your control. You're the one that wants to feel better, that's why you're drinking..."

"What I want is for you to talk to me." Scott raised his voice, cutting off the further insults his brother was about to make. He frowned in surprise at the outburst, feeling stung from the truth in parts of it.

"Talk to you?" Virgil shook his head vaguely. "Well what do you want to hear Scott?" Virgil paused, shrugging. "You've seen the sketches, what do you want me to say? That I watched him burn alive. That he was calling out to me to help him. There you go; I've just told you. So now you can pat me on the back and tell me everything's going to be okay. Just like you did when I was ten years old. So long as it makes you feel better." He added.

"Virgil." Scott closed his eyes, shaking his head and sighing. "I thought we were going to talk about this, properly."

"What is there to talk about?" Virgil frowned. "Isn't that what you want me to do? Spill my guts so you can tell me it'll be okay? I'm giving you the ideal opportunity to play you precious role Scott. So, come on, if it's so important to you that you treat us all like kids, get on with it." He paused to watch a mixture of bemusement and outrage settle on Scott's features. "Tell me it'll be okay, that it'll get better; time heals everything and that none of it's my fault. Isn't that what you want us to do? Play vulnerable so as you can feel fulfilled playing big brother."

"No, that's not true or fair. What I want is for you talk to me, I'm trying to help you." Scott sighed, watching his brother's angry attempts at snubbing his support. "I don't understand why you're so intent on withdrawing from anyone who offers you the remotest amount of support."

"You're trying to help me?" Virgil mulled the words over sarcastically, eventually shaking his head. "No Scott." He disagreed. "You feel guilty because I didn't come running to you, ready to pour my heart and soul out on your shoulder." Virgil paused, swinging his legs of Scott's lap with some effort. With a groan of exertion, he got to his feet. "Well, this might be news to you Scott, but we've all grown up. Maybe it's about time you tried that. Look, I'm a big boy now; I can look after myself."

"Really?" Scott questioned, purposely choosing to ignore the other comments. "Is that why you disappeared for three hours yesterday? You could barely stand up when you got back; you only just made it to the bed before you crashed out. Is that what you call looking after yourself?"

Virgil softened instantly. Reminiscent of the state he'd returned in, and the guilt he'd felt at his brothers worry. For a moment, he was set to back down in the knowledge he'd been foolish yesterday; Scott had every right to be angry with him for the way he'd treated his brother. Suddenly though a new wave of frustration struck him, and he realised that he wasn't the only one with cause to feel guilty.

"And snooping through someone's private belongings, is that what you call helping?" Virgil replied, turning the situation around completely and pacing the small area in front of the sofa.

Scott sighed. "I said I'm sorry."

"Yeah, so did I." Virgil returned quickly.

Scott closed his eyes, his head lolling against the sofa once more. "Look…" He exhaled again. "Sit back down." He gestured to the seat Virgil had vacated in favour of pacing the floor, albeit slowly.

"Scared I'll make a run for it?" Virgil retorted. His tone was daring more than it was angry but Scott felt his brother's frustration and annoyance.

"I don't think you're in any condition." Scott said softly, noting how out of breath Virgil had become just from his slow pacing. Virgil looked up to him, hating to admit the fact that Scott was right and he really did need to sit down. Slowly he complied and gently descended back into the space he'd only just relinquished. He leaned against the back of the sofa with a painful sigh, concentrating on righting his wheezy breathing. Scott, by contrast, sat forward in his chair so as to get his brother's attention.

They watched each other, each silently weighing up the other. Consequentially Scott began to wonder if he was capable of resolving the very conversation he'd just instigated. John had been right; this should've been about Virgil and his inability to cope with the situation. However, Virgil's earlier comments had hit a little to close to the mark. Now, it was most definitely not about one or the other, but both.


	16. Unwelcome Truths

Authors Note:  Thanks again to those who reviewed the last chapter; it's always greatly appreciated. Please continue to let me know what you're all thinking.

Chapter Sixteen – Unwelcome Truths

"Maybe we could try changing the…" Sam looked to where John stared aimlessly across the room and immediately let the sentence trail away. The blonde Tracy hadn't really seemed to concentrate on anything since Scott's departure. Sam heaved a sigh and sat back in his chair, unceremoniously throwing the pen he toyed with on the desk. "Okay, you want to talk about it?" When John didn't even acknowledge Sam's words, the mechanic waved a hand in front of his vacant expression. "John?"

"Sorry, what?" John blinked himself out of his reverie.

"You alright?" Sam frowned. "You've hardly said two words since Scott went off."

"Yeah." John smiled shakily. "Sorry, my mind's been somewhere else."

Sam sighed. "I know what you mean. I can't stop seeing Virgil's face when he realised … Well, y'know." He finished uncomfortably.

"Yeah, yeah I know." John sighed. "Me too."

Sam sighed too, pensively. "I don't know how he did it. Kept it to himself, I mean. I would have cracked under the pressure by now."

John shook his head in reply. "Scott's right, he'd go to the ends of the earth to protect Alan. Not just Al, any of us; they both would."

"You mean Scott?" Sam questioned. When John nodded, he sighed before continuing. "I didn't realise how close they were; Scott and Virgil. I've watched them over this weekend, and there just so comfortable around each other. I kind of wish that I had a relationship like that with my brother." He smiled fleetingly. "You're all lucky to have each other."

John smiled in reply. "Scott and Virgil have always been close." He paused for a few moments. "After Mom died they really pulled together, I guess for the rest of us. As they grew older, they just seemed to get closer. Then Scott left for college." John paused, shaking his head at the memories. "It was horrible, Virgil was lost without him around and I think he was equally as lost being away. I think they've kind of drifted since then. I mean, we're all pretty close as family goes, but they're not as close as they used to be. What about you?"

Sam scoffed. "Nah, my brother wasn't exactly the ideal role model. My Dad died when I was fourteen, Hal kind of went of the rails after that. I haven't seen him in years. I doubt I'd recognise him if he walked passed me in the street. My Mom tells me about him, when I call but…" Sam shook his head. "He did some bad things."

John hung his head, wishing he hadn't asked. "I'm sorry." He said lamely. "I didn't mean to pry."

Sam smiled up at him. "No, not at all. Virgil's been more of a brother to me in the last few years than Hal ever was." John smiled at the high regard the mechanic held his older brother in. "I just hope he's okay."

"Me too." John sighed again. "I wonder how it's going. I hope Scott's had the sense to listen to what I said." He shook his head.

"I'm sure Scott'll handle it." Sam assured him. "Maybe Virgil will listen to him."

"Yeah maybe…" John shrugged. "Or maybe not."

"You said yourself; they're close. They'll figure it out one way or another." Sam found himself assuring John again.

"I'm not so sure. It doesn't matter now close they are, if he pushes Virgil too hard…" John trailed off. "Alan was right; what he said on the playback was true. Scott lectures him about growing up and acting like an adult, but Scott's the one who can't move on. This weekend has been the catalyst for some of us to point that out. What worries me is that he'll push Virgil too far. And the mood Virgil's in, he's not likely to be tactful about what he says."

"Maybe straight talking is what Scott needs." Sam suggested, but John was already shaking his head.

"Or maybe it's just going to cause one huge fight…" John replied with a heavy sigh.

XxxxX

"Can we start this conversation again?" Scott smiled hopefully.

"Scott," Virgil shook his head. "Look, you've seen the sketches. You know what you know. I don't want to talk about it. I've had to go through it once today already and I'm not doing it again."

Scott realised he wasn't going to get anywhere and retreated, deciding on a different angle. "Okay, you don't want to talk, that's fair enough. I know the interviews are rough, but what if I do?" He sat back in his chair, stretching an arm along the top of the sofa, behind Virgil's head. "Will you listen?"

Virgil looked, up clearly surprised by the comment. Scott had unfortunately inherited Jeff's strategy that if you pretended everything was okay, then it would be. After their mother had died, Scott tried his best to comfort their father. As a result, Virgil truly believed that Jeff's mind-set of denial had shaped Scott into the man he was today. Virgil knew only too well, his brother didn't often require his empathising skills in such an overt manner. In fact, it was usually Virgil instigating, or often even forcing, his listening ear onto his brother.

In answer to Scott's question, he just nodded mutely.

"I'm listening; go on." Below the surface, a suspicious frown lurked. He wondered if Scott was going to attempt emotional blackmail as a way of getting him to talk. Virgil wholeheartedly wished his brother would just accept the fact that he didn't need his support and leave it at that. Alan was in much greater need of it, in his opinion. Nevertheless he let Scott go on, consciously reminding himself that this was most likely a ploy.

Scott took in a deep breath; this wasn't one of his stronger points. In fact, it was something he hated doing, hated to the point where he would rather suffer himself. However, he was determined Virgil would not endure the fallout of this crash on his own, and begrudgingly accepted the actuality that he would resort to anything, including this. He swallowed hard and prepared to bare his own soul in the hope his brother would follow suit.

"I…" He trailed off as a smile ghosted his features. "I don't know where to start. I guess this weekend hasn't been easy for any of us. I don't think I realised how much everyone's changed over the last few years. Gordon seems so mature and John has a hell of a lot more self confidence. I've got to admit, even Al's grown up." Another pause as he folded one leg underneath the other. Virgil too shifted position, sitting slightly askew so as he was semi-facing his brother. "I guess what I mean is that it's not exactly what I expected when Dad suggested we meet up."

"Yeah well, I don't think it's been what any of us expected." Virgil ground out sarcastically.

"No," Scott agreed. "It never crossed my mind that you were in the car." Scott continued, slowly. He smirked to himself slightly. "I was so worried about Alan and there were all these marshals telling me I couldn't get any closer." Scott paused. Swallowing and dropping his gaze before letting out a breath. He focused his vision back on his brother. "That's when I saw it." He stopped, lost in the memory as it replayed in his head once more.

Virgil frowned. "Saw it? Saw what?" He asked, watching Scott's hesitation with concern.

"They wheeled a body passed us." Scott's tone had reverted to being detached and he carried on with a matter-of-fact air to his voice. "To begin with I was just so repulsed by the fact that someone was dead. But then… then my mind started formulating all these theories. I saw Alan with some marshals not far away; he was dazed but he was okay. The relief was…." He trailed off again. Suddenly he smirked and a despondent laugh escaped his lips. "I held him so tightly Virg; I don't know how he breathed. I just needed to reassure myself he was okay," Scott shook his head. "I know that's selfish after what he'd been through but I was so worried that something had happened to him."

There was a long pause before Scott spoke again, Virgil watched him fidget in the chair. He obviously felt awkward about admitting just how he felt. Virgil sympathised with him to a certain degree, but was determined that his sympathy would not allow Scott to succeed. As far as he was concerned, this was a subject that was strictly off limits. A fact his brother needed to accept rather than attempt to change.

"When he told me you were in the car, I … I felt numb." Scott admitted, flushing with embarrassment. "I just couldn't get it into my head, it didn't seem real. It was just words, y'know? I don't think I really believed him to begin with. Then I remembered seeing them pushing that body passed me, and my imagination really kicked in." He attempted to laugh, but deep down found the mater far from funny. "I'd all but convinced myself it was you. Physically I froze but all the time my mind was racing. All these different pictures kept popping into my head. I couldn't get rid of them and each one was worse than the last." Scott looked down to where his hands rested in his lap and began to fiddle gently with his thumbs, guiltily. Not daring to look up at his brother; too nervous of his own reaction.

"I … I panicked Virg. " He admitted, remorsefully. "The pit of my gut just fell away and I really panicked. I ran over to what was left of the cars but they'd covered the windshields up with salvage sheets and I couldn't see anything. The next thing I knew they were pulling you out." Another pause came as he nervously continued to fiddle with his fingers. "You were so pale and still; it was frightening but I was so relieved I could have cried. I tried to get closer, I wanted to go in the ambulance but they said I couldn't." He looked up to see if this was having any effect on his brother. Staring deep into Virgil's eyes, he could see the empathy there and cleared his throat. Hoping that he wouldn't have to go much further.

"I didn't realise you'd seen the body." Virgil said softly. "I'm sorry."

"When we found out it was Mark, I was pleased." Scott continued, shaking his head regretfully. "I was pleased that it was him and it wasn't either of you." He paused. Shamefully bowing his head. "I know that makes me a terrible person but I can't help it, Virg."

"It doesn't make you a terrible person Scott." Virgil told him sincerely. "It's only natural that you'd feel that way. We're your brothers and you barely knew Mark."

"Did you know him well?" Scott looked up at his brother. He hoped that his sentimental declaration would be enough for Virgil to open up too. Allowing himself to entertain the idea that maybe he'd done the hard part now. He began skirting around the edges of the real issue.

Virgil shrugged under Scott's gaze. Not showing any signs of realising what his brother was up to, even though he did. "As well as Alan, I guess." Virgil paused to remember. "He never really got on with Al. I think he saw him as a threat, especially now the car's fixed. Usually after the race, we'd all go out for a drink. Jim used to insist; said it was good to fraternise with the enemy." He laughed. "Mark was always there to rub Alan's nose in it after we had problems with the car. He was always okay with me, and Jim got on with him okay. Mark was always a bit arrogant; in fact, it was Jack and I that always tried to keep the peace."

"Yeah well, I don't think Jack was thinking about keeping the peace when he turned up here the other night." Scott said angrily, still smarting from the incident.

"He's grieving Scott." Virgil sighed sadly. "He's just lost his brother. How would you have felt if it had been Alan or I that had died?"

Scott bowed his head morosely. "Yeah well … I've been thinking about that a lot." He paused. "John said we were lucky when you think about all the variables and he's right. I don't even want to consider what could have happened. How easily we could have lost either of you…" He paused. "Or worse, both."

"Unfortunately, Jack doesn't have the option to stop thinking about it. The poor guy," Virgil sympathised. "I can't even imagine what he's going through now."

"I know." Scott agreed but still felt the need to put his ideas forward. "But I'd still like to think I wouldn't go around getting drunk and then looking for a fight."

Virgil shrugged, shaking his head at his brother's condescending and superior attitude. "You're the first to reach for the scotch bottle." He gestured to the glass on the table as if to prove his point. "Besides, Jack was just lashing out."

"That's all very well but Alan was fragile enough without having to hear him 'lash out'," Scott frowned at his brothers empathetic skills; they were much greater than his own were. "He hurt you, what if he'd done more serious damage?"

"But he didn't Scott." Virgil replied. "He didn't mean to hurt me, it was an accident."

"Maybe, but he did and he didn't show any remorse." Scott pointed out, stubbornly.

"If you'd just died, I doubt apologising to anyone would be top of my priority list Scott. Cut the guy some slack." Virgil protested tersely. He was beginning to feel his brother's resentment and respond to it with aggravation.

Not wanting this to transcend into another argument, Scott paused, before deciding to change the subject. "Where were they from?" He asked out of interest; he felt he should know more about this person.

"He was a Brit; their Grandfather's a Lord or something. That's where they get all their money. Last I heard Mark was working in London, something to do with computers and Jack's a doctor." Virgil mused unhappily, as he shook his head again. "It's so sad Scott; I mean he can't have been older than John. So much potential, so much life just ….just gone, just like that." He clicked his fingers. "It's wrong. Makes me wish I could do something that would make a difference. But there isn't anything is there?" He sighed.

Virgil seemed deep in thought and Scott wondered if he was making progress. "Have you thought about the funeral?"

Virgil shrugged. "I'll go with Alan, if he wants to go. It'll mean coming back to England for a few nights; I'll talk to him about it and see what he says. Judging from Jack's reaction the other night, I'm not sure we'd be welcome anyway." He paused. "How do you think he's coping with all this? I mean really coping."

"Alan's stronger than we think. I know he upset Gordon this morning, but I think he's doing okay." Scott sighed thoughtfully. "Better than I thought he would." Scott narrowed his eyes as he studied his brother closely.

"Better than me, you mean." Virgil said bitterly, taking in a long breath at the insinuation. He winced at just how tight his chest was becoming.

"You said it." Scott muttered softly, hoping that the comment was an indication of the progress he'd made. He waited for a long time for Virgil to respond, half expecting some kind of angry retort but none came.

"Only because you didn't have to." Virgil sighed in response. "Is Gordon alright?" He asked.

Scott nodded. "Yeah. Alan was just upset yesterday after the interview. He said a few things he didn't mean and Gordon took the full force of his frustrations. They're okay now, I've just seen them down in the lobby and they seemed fine."

Virgil sighed, pensively. "Yeah well, I guess when people are upset they don't think rationally. They say things they don't mean." He hesitated. "And do things that aren't that clever."

"You mean like you did yesterday?" Scott ventured carefully, not wanting Virgil to clam up on him. As he had before.

"I guess so." Virgil shrugged. "But I'm paying the price now." He paused again, swallowing back an element of his pride. "For what it's worth, I am sorry about yesterday. I wasn't thinking straight."

"I know." Scott nodded, unsure whether to carry on or not. He did but with great trepidation. "Virgil, you know you can't avoid talking about this forever." He said softly.

"I knew it!" Virgil exclaimed, his head snapping up to stare at his brother with contempt. "You can't just leave it can you?"

Scott watched the fire in his brothers eyes ignite and continue to burn with some surprise. He frowned at just how adamant Virgil seemed; the ferocity of his rage was so uncharacteristic.

"No, no I can't. Not when I know you're torturing yourself like this." He paused, continuing to watch Virgil as he spoke. "I don't understand why you're doing this."

"Doing what?" Virgil frowned, screwing his face up in annoyance at his brother's persistence.

"Denying yourself any help." Scott sat forward. "You begrudge any physical help you're forced to rely on. You go out of your way to avoid asking for help, to the point where you'd rather hurt yourself more. And you won't let me get close enough to help you emotionally." Scott came to a stop with a sigh. For a few seconds he allowed himself to collect his thoughts. Virgil made no effort to respond to his words, instead staring into space as if they hadn't even been spoken.

"Is it me?" Scott asked eventually, tired of waiting for a response. "Is it my fault? Have I done or said something to upset you?" He paused for Virgil to reply but the younger man remained silent. "I know you think I'm interfering but that's my job; I'm your brother." He paused again, but still no reply came. "If this is about this morning, at breakfast then I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so overbearing or intrusive. I'm worried about you Virgil and I don't really think you appreciate how much." Scott looked across to his brother but Virgil just stared ahead, determined this conversation wasn't happening. "Look, I know this is hard for you but I can't help you unless you talk to me. I wish you'd just talk to me Virg, I want to know." Scott sat back realising that his voice had risen throughout his oration. And that towards the end, it sounded more like pleading then the domineering tenor he'd intended.

"It's nothing to do with you." Virgil said eventually. The anger hadn't quite faded from his voice. "I know you're worried and I'm sorry that I've given you cause to worry. But you can't possibly understand this Scott, so just leave it alone. Please, it's not about you. It's about me, it's all me, I promise you."

Scott sighed heavily; he was fast getting to the end of his tether. He shook his head in frustration, opening his arms and shrugging. "I thought you wanted to talk this morning, what's changed now?"

Virgil swallowed, composing himself. When he did speak, it was a complete contrast to Scott's urgent and frantic manner. He remained calm and quiet. "I've already been through all this once today with the investigation team; I don't want to have to go through it again with you." Virgil told his brother wearily. "Honestly, I just wish this weekend had never happened. I just want to go home on Wednesday and forget all about it."

"Well I hate to disappoint you Buddy, but that isn't going to happen." Scott told him seriously, his frustration breaking through into sarcasm. "If you really want to forget about this weekend then you're going to have to deal with what's happened and that means talking about it." Scott was planning to stop, but seeing the expression on Virgil's face he jumped back in before his brother could. "And don't look like that because you know as well as I do that I'm right."

Virgil was shaking his head gently. "No, no you're not! Contrary to what you think Scott, you are not always right!" He continued. "I am dealing with it, just not the way you want me to." He protested angrily.

"What's the hell is that supposed to mean?" Virgil blocking his every effort to help and foiling his attempts to get him to talk was beginning to get to Scott. As a result, the question came out with a bit more bite than was intended.

"It means…" Virgil began, keeping his reply low and not matching his brother's harsh tone. "…that just because I'm not running to you for a shoulder to cry on, doesn't mean that I'm not dealing with it." He said adamantly. "And I'm sorry if that's not quite what you expected to happen but I'm dealing with this in my own way Scott. And I'm afraid if that doesn't involve me running to you to make you feel better, well…" The long sentence seemed to flow off his tongue and he paused for breath. "Well, I'm sorry Scott but you're just going to have to accept that." Virgil growled, letting his temper rise to the surface as Scott's imperiousness became too much.

"No, I won't just accept it!" Scott snapped back loudly, matching Virgil's tone. He intentionally reigned his temper in. "Virgil, I know you. I know how you tick and I know you need to get this off your chest."

"Stop telling me what I need!" Virgil bellowed; his self control wavering further at Scott's pestering and condescending. "I know what I need and it doesn't involve you!" He responded impulsively.

"Do you?" Scott questioned, "Do you really know what you need? You sure as hell didn't yesterday. Unless you felt a sudden masochistic compulsion to make yourself worse!" Scott threw up his hands and got to his feet, continuing where Virgil had left off in pacing the small space in front of the sofa. "You said you weren't thinking rationally yesterday. So what makes you so sure you're thinking rationally now?"

"Look Scott," Virgil responded, desperately trying to remain calm as he reached for the wireless headphones on the table alongside him. "I told you, I didn't want to talk about this." He continued to talk as he placed the earpieces in his ears. "Why can't you just understand that and leave me alone?" He reached for the radio but Scott just beat him to it, snatching the pen like object from his hands with force.

"No! No I won't!" He exclaimed as he continued to pace, radio in hand. "Virgil, I don't know what's going on in your head and contrary to popular belief, I'm not psychic." He brandished the radio as if it was some kind of stick. Waving it about in the air as he spoke. "I know you're upset and I know this is eating you up." He sighed again. "You need to get it out of your system; I'm just giving you an opportunity to do that."

"Yeah." Virgil smirked sarcastically. "You're doing it all for me, aren't you? Nothing to do with the fact that you feel useless or that you need to feel as if you're doing something." He paused; looking directly up at his brother as he painfully pushed himself to his feet. He was quite surprised by the bolts of agony that consumed his chest. He assumed the stress of this discussion was making him tense and further increasing the throbbing in his ribs. Not to mention his sudden shortness of breath; he deduced it was the strain and carried on.

"What makes you so sure that talking is the only way I can get all this out of my system? Huh?" He asked, allowing his anger to break the surface as his face darkened. The tone and pitch of his voice changed to match that of a Scott's.

He reached for the sketchbook that Scott had left on the sofa. "What do you think this is?" He fumed as he wafted the hardback book under Scott's nose. "Do you think its fun sketching these?" Virgil hesitated, his eyes glazing over. "It's not." He told Scott sadly, angrily. "I don't enjoy doing this!" He flicked the sketch book open and waved a random picture in Scott's face. "But I do it, because I can't get it out of my head otherwise." Virgil winced as his agitated state caused his breathing to quicken and deepen, producing more pain with every breath. His tirade continued. "Because if I don't, it doesn't go away. Do you think it's relaxing when you end up with something like this?" His face crumpled as he waved the picture in front of Scott again. "Or this?" He flicked the page back as another one took its place. All the time, his breathing becoming more and more troubled. "I hate it!" He exclaimed as he tore at the pages of the book, screwing them up and frantically tearing them. "I hate all of it!"

Scott looked on in alarm as his brother vehemently tore the pages one by one, from the hard back book. Destroying the sketches inside and becoming more and more hysterical with every page.

For a few seconds, Scott could do nothing but watch the frenzied display in pure shock. His calm, confident and composed brother. His brother who had always been the very epitome of togetherness, level headed and imperturbable was losing it, right in front of his very eyes.

Finally, he found his tongue.

"Virgil, stop it!" He frowned as he steadily made his way closer. "I know you're upset but you've got to calm down!" This time he fully intended his tone to be pleading, he was beginning to get seriously worried about his brother's haggard breathing. "Virgil! Please, listen to me, calm down!"

He realised his pleading didn't seem to be getting anywhere and decided on a more direct plan of action. "Virgil stop this!" He commanded as he neared his brother. Taking both of Virgil's hands in his own grasp and holding them together at the wrists, he frowned. "Stop it!"

Virgil gasped for breathe for a few minutes, confined by Scott's grasp. He screwed his face up at the unexpected pain he was experiencing, before pushing Scott away with force. "Get off." He shrugged his older brother off; rejecting his attempts at comforting him. Turning away from Scott, he threw the hard back book at the wall. "Just leave me alone Scott, you don't know anything. Just back off!"

"I can't do that." Scott told his brother's back as Virgil went to stand by the balcony doors. "You said you were running away yesterday morning and I'm not about to let you do it again."

Virgil turned to face him. "Gee, that's real big of you Scott." He muttered sarcastically, before turning back to the balcony and stepping towards the open doors. "Listen at yourself." He scoffed. "You should try working out your own problems before you preach to me."

"Don't you see? I'm trying to help, I'm not preaching …" Scott was cut off by Virgil's ironic, forced laughter.

"You don't get it, do you?" The younger man scoffed again. "Do I have to spell it out to you? I will if I have to. I don't need your help! I'm not the same little twelve year old that you used to tuck up in bed Scott. I've moved on from that!" He scoffed another ironic laugh. "You have spent the last God knows how long telling Alan to grow up. But it's not Alan that needs to grow up and accept change, is it? It's you!"

"Virgil…" Scott's tone became reminiscent of a warning. "I know you're upset, but you're treading on very thin ice."

Virgil carried on regardless. He'd gone too far to stop now. "You're the one that doesn't want any of them to grow up. When are you going to get it through your thick head that they're not kids any more? None of us are." Scott's nostrils flared at his brothers words. "You act as if you're some kind of martyr…"

"Don't you dare …" Scott fumed. The fire barely contained in his eyes. His limbs began to shake with fury and his jaw firmed.

"No!" Virgil exclaimed. "Don't you dare! The only reason you insist on going around telling Alan that he needs to grow up and ticking Gordon off for playing stupid jokes is because you're scared! You're scared that they won't need you. That's what this is about; you don't want things to change because you're afraid that the day will come when they don't need you to mother them any more!" Virgil paused, desperately struggling to breathe now. "Well, you're too late Scott. They are adults and it's about time you realised that!"

"How dare you… " Scott growled. "You are one selfish, ungrateful little…" He shook his head, anger building further with every word.

"No!" Virgil returned. "I'm not ungrateful and I'm not selfish. You might have been the martyr but I was the dogsbody at your side! The difference is I'm not hanging on to the past! You… you just can't let go!" Virgil shook his head, realising this was going too far but unable to stop the flow of words leaving his mouth. "You're the selfish one! You're the one that can't bear to entertain the notion that they're growing up! You can't even see what's happening right in front of your nose!"

"Oh yeah!" Scott retorted. "And what's that Virg?" His words were tinged with sarcasm, and menace.

"Can't you see what you're doing? Alan's frustrated at the way you fuss over him and try to protect him from things he wants to experience. He thinks you don't trust him and that you expect him to fail at everything. You're pushing him away. And not just him either, your pushing all of them away, me included!"

Scott chortled a laugh. "From where I'm stood it's not me doing all the pushing!"

"That's just it!" Virgil exclaimed. "You can't even see you're doing it! They're tired of you forcing your moral guidance on them Scott, and frankly, so am I! If you don't give them a break, and stop acting like you can save the world… Well eventually they're really going to hate you for making them feel so suffocated." Virgil stopped to catch his breath; it was a brief respite. "They understand it's not easy, but …"

"And I guess you know all this because you're just the perfect big brother." Scott cut him off. "You have no idea what it was like for me." He glared. "What it still is like for me."

"Yes I do!" Virgil disagreed. "I know, because I was there too. You're just so wrapped up in your own self-importance that you prefer to forget that. And no, I'm not perfect but I don't pretend to be! And I can certainly open my eyes and see what's happening beyond the edge of my nose!"

He watched Scott shake his head from side to side. Beginning to pace the small space between them in denial. "Yeah, that's it Scott you deny it!" Scott's head snapped up accusingly, to which Virgil replied. "What? You don't like it?" He asked rhetorically. "Well they say the truth hurts, don't they?" Virgil suddenly laughed ironically. "Tell me something, how do you do it? Huh?" Virgil frowned as he struggled to get the oxygen he needed. He carried on regardless. Deep down, he knew this wasn't coming out right and that there were other, more tactful ways to put his view across. However right now, his frustration and anger were taking over; unfortunately heading in Scott's direction.

"You weren't even in the car and yet here we are arguing about your attitude, your response and your inability to move on! Congratulations Scott, you've successfully made this whole weekends all about you! It always has to be about you doesn't it? You're not bothered about the fact that I'm hurting inside." Virgil accused. "All your worried about is how it makes you feel when I'm not willing to talk to you about it! I'll bet the not knowing is killing you, huh Scott? Now who's the selfish one?" Scott opened his mouth to retort, something along the lines of just how much he knew. Luckily, John's words came back to haunt him and he stopped himself, before he could reveal to Virgil that he knew the truth all right. "You need to grow up Scott, and face facts. They might not have the balls to tell you but I sure as hell have!"

"Oh so what?" Scott exclaimed. "Now they're scared of me too?"

"No." Virgil screwed his face up. "They're not scared of you! They just don't want to hurt you."

"But you do want to hurt me? Is that what this is really about?" Scott theorised. "You're lashing out because you want me to feel as bad as you do?"

"No, don't be ridiculous! I don't want to hurt you either. Which is why I'm saying this now and not in five years time when it's too late. I'm giving you the chance to do something about it." He took a few moments to gasp in some air. "I know it's not easy being the eldest but you've got to let go Scott!"

"Like you'd know." Scott growled. "You never had the same responsibility." He said accusingly.

"I did more than my share." Virgil snapped back. "You can't control them forever."

"I'm not trying to control them!" Scott exclaimed in protest.

"Yes you are. You're trying to force them into being the children they were for you. So as you can feel in control and as if you have a place. You fit into their lives that way, but their lives have changed, Scott. They've all been away at college just like you and me, and they've all developed into adults in that time. They don't need some supreme ethical protector hovering over them anymore! Even Gordon'd grown up a hell of a lot when he came back from his training. I don't get why you can't understand that; it's not as if you haven't been through it."

"I understand that they've grown up. But that doesn't affect the fact that they're all still my little brothers, you included. And that isn't ever going to change." Scott snarled.

"No, you don't understand!" Virgil raised his hands in frustration. "If you did then you wouldn't expect them to keep running to you with their problems. They can deal with things on their own; they've had to! They don't need you holding their hands, and neither do I! They're men now, they can handle themselves and you can't keep them wrapped up in cotton wool for the rest of their lives! No matter how scared you are about losing control, because that's what this is really about."

"You know what? I've managed perfectly alright for the last God knows how many years, without your precious damned opinion." Scott returned angrily.

"No, you don't like it because it's the truth and you know it. You're a control freak and you're in control when you know how they're going to react. You know how to deal with it and that's fine. You need to know that they rely on your help, that you're indispensable. You're not! They don't rely on you anymore, not now. And that Scott, that's what's tearing you up! " Virgil paused for air once more. "The sooner you get that through your thick head the better."

Scott shook his head in denial, sighing. "You're doing this on purpose. You think by telling me all this, I'm going to get angry and storm off. Well, I'm not." Scott missed the point entirely. "I'm here for the duration Virg, I'm not going anyway. Whatever you say."

Virgil growled in frustration." For crying out loud!" He exclaimed as he navigated his way passed the sofa. "I don't know why I bother! You don't deserve it!" He pointed a finger in Scott's direction. "You are so pig headed and arrogant sometimes, I struggle to believe we're related."

"Pig headed and arrogant?" Scott looked the chestnut haired man up and down. "No," He responded sarcastically. "We're definitely related."

"Y'know what Scott? I give up!" Virgil exclaimed. "If you're so damned conceited and caught up in your own portentousness to see what's going on around you. Far be it for me to point it out!" He began to walk away, gasping for air. The argument and the sudden movement were taking their toll and he could feel his chest becoming tight again. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult under the stress and he could feel himself wheezing like an old man.

"Don't you walk away from me, Virgil!" Scott called. "I'm not finished here. You can't just say things like that and then walk away! I don't know why you're making this so difficult for the both of us! I'm trying to help you. Why the hell won't you just let me?" The dark haired man took a few fatal steps towards where his brother had stopped in his tracks at the tone Scott used.

Turning his head in Scott's direction but moving neither his gaze nor his body in his brother's direction. Virgil replied. "You want to know why? I don't deserve it and you certainly don't deserve my help, you selfish son of a bitch!" He swallowed, his heart beat echoing in his ears. "I don't want your help or your support. I didn't ask for it and I sure as hell don't need it." His tone was menacing and his voice dangerously low, betraying his difficulty in controlling it. "So why don't you just break the habit of a lifetime, Scott, and stop interfering where you're not wanted. Just butt out and leave me alone. Go to hell!" Virgil growled as his nostrils flared and he tried to control his breathing, with some difficulty.

"Is that what you think?" Scott growled as he advanced on his brother. "Don't you dare speak to me like that!" Scott raged. "And don't walk away from me!" He took a few quick paces to reach his brother as Virgil slowly made it to the balcony doors. "Don't you dare turn your back on me! Don't take another step! You come back here now!" Ignoring Scott's irate commands, Virgil took a step out onto the stone floor. "Don't ignore me, answer me!" Scott's temper raged.

Coming from this particular brother the words they'd just exchanged stung more than anything Scott had ever felt. Worse, was the knowledge that though Virgil was angry and upset, he was also predominantly right. Nothing could quell the anger Scott felt in that moment; most of it directed at himself. Just like he couldn't accept what Virgil had said even though he had a point. Neither could he couldn't accept that he was being pushed away, even though it was happening right in front of him. What got to him the most was the fact that, had it been anyone else he wouldn't have cared. It wasn't anyone else though. All this came from the very person that he cared most about in the world, his closest friend and sole confidant. He could do nothing but feel the anger build; anger processed from self-reproach and a sudden unwelcome comprehension.

In some respects, this weekend had been as tough for him as it had Virgil and Alan. Unfortunately, it was all coming to the fore now; anger, frustration, desperation and a feeling of helplessness as he watched everything spiralling out of his control. It was the intensity of these feelings coupled with his own insurmountable rage, which led him to take those few fatal steps in his brother's direction.

His temper took over and without thinking; he reached out and took a hold of his brother's wrist. Wrenching it harshly and holding onto it tightly to prevent Virgil's escape.

"I said answer me, damn it!" He yelled as he shook Virgil's arm, yanking hard on the limb as if he could get a reply by sheer force. Scott's eyes burned furiously and his whole body became tense. His temper overrode any conscious thought and he lashed out in the worst possible way.

"Argh!" Virgil screamed out in pain as he made a grab for his ribs. His whole upper body became alive with the agony that Scott's aggressive movement had caused to spread through his chest. He felt the room spin slightly. The excruciating pain took him to the ends of his endurance and his legs threatened to buckle beneath him. He reached out for something to support him as he doubled over, the pain bringing tears to his eye.

He could hear, somewhere in the distance, his brother's frantic apologising but his vision was clouding and the sound was already warped.

"Virgil! I didn't mean… Oh my God! I'm sorry."

Every muscle in Virgil's abused body had become tort, his breathing laboured and heavy. Fiery agony shot through his chest causing tears to blot his cheeks. He grabbed onto something, though unsure of what it was, in order to stop himself from falling. The intense throbbing pain in his chest only increased though, overwhelming him. His elbows and knees buckled under the pressure.

After an unexpected lurch, a falling sensation overcame him and he slipped from Scott's devastated grip. He hit the ground with a sudden jolt and the agony in his chest promptly exploded, consuming him. No longer containable in his chest; it mercilessly ripped through every muscle in his body.

He had long since stopped paying attention to his surroundings and failed to hear Scott's frantic calls to him to stay awake. Instead, his vision misted and Scott's words became faint and distorted. As he gratefully accepted the sudden, blissful nonentity that was fast surrounding him.


	17. Words of Wisdom

Authors Note: Firstly, I must apologise once more for the delay with this chapter; I'm afraid I just haven't found the time to polish it and post it. Unfortunately, real life has become rather a big issue of late. However, this one is a bit longer than normal! Secondly thank you to the few who contacted me with a review for chapter 16. Your comments were greatly appreciated, as always. All feedback is highly valued, so please let me know your comments.

Chapter Seventeen – Words of Wisdom

Scott watched in horror as his brother slipped from his flimsy grip, plummeting towards the ground. For a few seconds his breath caught in his throat; unable to speak or move he could only watch Virgil's flaccid form crash towards the floor.

Soon enough the urgency of the situation took him over and he rushed to kneel beside his brother.

"Virgil?" He reached a hand out to Virgil's shoulder, where he lay on his side. "Can you hear me?" He gave the shoulder in his grip a gentle shake. Still receiving no response, he continued to carefully roll his brother over, until he was laid on his back. The movement seemed to rouse Virgil. When a groan escaped his lips Scott's head immediately snapped up, relieved to see Virgil's lashes beginning to flutter. "Virg? Open your eyes." Scott waited with baited breath as Virgil struggled to battle his way back to full awareness.

Eventually he managed to keep his eyes open for longer than a few seconds.

Scott sat back breathing out a heavy sigh, thankful to be reacquainted with the familiar brown eyes he now stared into. He let the relief run through him as if it were in his very veins. Taking place of the panic that had begun in his fingertips and extended to take some sort of control of him.

"Wh…What happened?" Virgil looked confusedly up to his older brother. He took a while to focus on Scott's face, before spinning his vision up to the sky.

"You passed out, it was my fault." Scott informed him shamefully bowing his head. "Don't you remember?" He frowned.

"Your fault…" Virgil seemed dazed. "Huh?" Virgil moaned again, frowning. His deep breathing still caused pain to shoot through his chest on occasion. "Oh…." He paused, evidently, his memory returning. "Yeah, I remember." His eyes roved the skies and surroundings as if trying to identify where he was.

"Virgil…" Scott sighed. "I didn't mean…"

"Can you help me up?" Virgil spoke over him, apparently anticipating what he was about to say. He attempted to get his arms underneath him and push himself up. The pain though, took him by surprise and he had to stop.

"Whoa! Stop!" Scott called out, halting any movement on Virgil's part with a hand to his shoulder. "Look at me." Scott told him, firmly. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Virgil slowly shook his head. "Nowhere I wasn't hurting before." He ground out, blinking as Scott's face began to sway before his eyes. "I'm fine. Now, are you going to help me up or do I have to struggle?"

Scott sighed. "Are you sure?"

His only response was the rolling of his brother's eyes as Virgil tutted. Attempting once more, to push himself up.

"Okay, okay!" Scott stopped him again, not wanting him to hurt himself. "I'll help you, here." He leaned over his brother, placing one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulders. "Put your arms around my neck." Virgil obeyed and Scott grunted as he pulled his brother to his feet. He took his weight as Virgil swayed unsteadily. Scott felt him waver and held him a little tighter around the waist. "You alright? Maybe you should sit down." He suggested already locating the nearest patio seat and estimating the distance.

Virgil took a couple of breathes, as deep as he could muster. "No, I'm okay." He shook his head. "I'm alright Scott." He assured his older brother when Scott's grip didn't slacken. "You can let go. I promise I won't fall over."

Reluctantly and extremely slowly, Scott removed his arm. His eyes met Virgil's gaze and held it for a while, trying to assess the truth in his brother's words. Cautiously he took a step back, allowing Virgil to stand unaided.

"Let's get you inside." Scott sighed, gesturing to the open balcony doors. "Do you need a hand?"

"No, I'm fine." Virgil swallowed. "I can do it."

The first few steps were a little unsteady, but he gained confidence with every successful movement. Scott hovered by his side, ready to offer his support in the event of Virgil's legs failing him once more.

Suddenly Virgil stopped.

"Come on." Scott encouraged. "You're nearly there now." He coached but Virgil didn't move; his feet firmly fixed to the floor. "You alright Virg?"

"A little light-headed." Virgil swallowed, his eyes tightly closed. "Just give me a minute."

Scott reached out a steadying hand to grip his brother's arm. He braced himself for Virgil's legs to give way again but thankfully, it didn't come to that. Scott allowed his brother a minute to collect himself, before gently coaxing him until they were stood alongside his bed. "Here, sit down." Virgil hesitated again, closing his eyes against the giddiness that remained.

Scott sighed, rubbing his arm reassuringly. "It's alright," He whispered. "I've got you." He continued to take the most of Virgil's weight as he lowered his younger brother until he was sat on the edge of the bed. Virgil cautiously opened his eyes, waiting for the room to come back into focus before smiling his thanks.

Scott sat back on the opposite bed frowning guiltily at this sudden decline in his brother's health. "You okay?"

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, yeah I think so." He frowned as he watched Scott reach out for the videophone that rested on the bed. "What are you doing?" He asked. A sudden urgency to his voice.

Scott continued to dial a number, before selecting voice only and holding the small piece of gadgetry to his ear. "I'm calling Dad." He said firmly.

"No." Virgil shook his head, still breathless. "No, don't Scott."

Scott spoke over him. "Dad?" He spoke into the phone. "Hi. What? ... No, nothing's wrong, it's just…" He looked up to his brother. Noticing for the first time how Virgil's hair had matted to his forehead; it made him look even paler. "Virgil's decided that it'd be a good idea to see Charlie Gore after all." Scott paused, listening to his father's obviously terse reply. "Nothing's wrong." Scott lied, he listened again. Virgil could hear their father's voice beginning to rise. "He's fine Dad." There was a pause. "No, he can't talk right now, he's err … he's in the bathroom." Virgil watched his brother drop his head, evidently having been rumbled. "No, Sir, I didn't…." He trailed off. "Yes Father." He said contritely, finally cutting the link.

"What did you do that for?" Virgil frowned, moving slightly and wincing at the discomfort. "The last thing he needs is more worry."

Scott leant forward in his seat. "Virgil! Look at yourself, look at the state you're in." He shook his head in exasperation. "You need to see a Doctor. Dad's going to call Charlie and you're going to talk to him, even if I have to pin you to that bed myself."

Virgil raised an eyebrow and for a second Scott thought he was going to laugh the situation off. He was sorely mistaken. "I'm fine Scott. Dad's worried enough as it is. He has enough on his plate without having to worry about me too. You shouldn't have done that; I'm okay."

"For Gods Sakes Virgil!" Scott exploded. "Would you stop being so damned stubborn!"

"Only if you stop trying to order me around!" Virgil fired back.

"Sure!" Scott replied sarcastically. "I shouldn't have to order you to see a doctor. If you had an ounce of sense, you wouldn't need telling twice!" He ground out in frustration. "Can't you see I'm worried about you? Dad is too, and is it any wonder? You just passed out Virgil!"

"Yeah and why was that Scott!" Scott's face fell at the scathing words and he dropped his head. Sitting back on his bed with another sigh. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean that how it sounded." Virgil apologised immediately, watching Scott frown sadly. "It wasn't your fault."

Scott looked up, meeting his brother's gaze. Words weren't really necessary to convey how much he disagreed with that comment. "No, you're right. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry." Scott's face contorted as he swallowed and looked miserably at his brother. His expression indicative of his remorse. "I'm so sorry Virgil."

"Don't be. I shouldn't have tried to hide how bad I was feeling." Virgil frowned as he attempted a sigh. "We're both as bad as each other."

"No, that's not fair." Scott shook his head sadly. "What I did was inexcusable. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you."

Virgil opened his mouth to reply but a sharp rap at the door turned both their heads.

"You look like you've seen a ghost. Lie down, you'll feel better." Scott told his younger brother firmly. As he got up in order to attend to the constant knocking

Virgil smirked. Scott's perceptiveness never ceased to amaze him and he sometimes wondered if his older brother really could read his mind. He was shaken from his thoughts by the urgent knocking at the door, once more.

"It'll be Dad." Scott turned to glance at the exit, before facing Virgil again. "I couldn't fool him; he knows something's going on." Scott hesitated at the foot off the bed. The way he frowned and sighed anxiously was enough for Virgil to know he had something he wanted to say. "Virg, for what it's worth you know… I'm sorry."

Virgil met his anxious gaze with a sympathetic smile. "I know." He paused. "Me too. We were both out of line; I'm sorry too Scott." He said seriously, conveying his own regret. "But can we talk about this after you've stopped Dad taking that door off its hinges?" He was rewarded with a gentle smile as Scott disappeared to appease their father. They both knew though, that the issue wouldn't end there.

"Virgil!" Jeff exclaimed, rushing into the room. "Are you okay?" Jeff asked hurrying over to his second eldest son, the anxiousness in his voice was unmistakable.

"I'm fine Dad." Virgil said softly.

"Fine!" Jeff exclaimed, turning on Scott. "What happened? And don't try fobbing me off with the lies you told me on the 'phone."

Any other time, Scott would have taken offence at the tone his father used. Today though, he felt as if he truly deserved it. Turning his vision to Virgil just reinforced that feeling. "It was…"

"…an accident!" Virgil cut him off before he could admit liability and Jeff turned to him in interest. "It was silly really." He looked up to Scott, holding his gaze and pleading with his brother not to say anything. "I … I was talking to Scott and walking out onto the balcony. I must've got my sleeve caught on the door or something. I felt it jar my ribs and then this pain, like nothing I've felt before. I remember reaching out for something and then… I was waking up on the floor."

"You passed out!" Jeff exclaimed. He sensed the unusual yet troublesome atmosphere between them and turned back to his oldest son to check the validity of Virgil's claim. Scott swallowed guiltily under his father's stare, and made his way to sit on his bed alongside Virgil. "Scott?" Jeff asked. "Is that how it happened?"

Scott coughed uncomfortably as Virgil glared at him. "Err, yeah. Yeah Father, that's pretty much what happened."

Jeff looked sceptical. It was obvious they were lying, covering each other's backs no doubt. Facing Virgil momentarily, he turned back to Scott. "How long was he out Scott?" He demanded

Scott shrugged, answering to the floor and not daring to meet Jeff's gaze. His father's tone was not one to mess with. "I'm not sure." He hesitated. "Maybe a minute."

"Is that all?" Virgil frowned.

"Are you kidding me?" Scott turned on his brother. "It was the longest minute of my life." He added quietly, meeting Virgil's concerned gaze.

"Look boys, I don't know what you two are trying to hide. I appreciate that you two keep a lot of things to yourself and you probably don't want to tell me what the hell's going on. But when it comes down to your health, you don't have a choice! Who do you think you're fooling with this …" He was cut off as his 'phone rang and both Scott and Virgil let out dual sighs of relief. "That'll be Charlie; he's about half an hour away. We're not finished." He waggled a finger in their general direction before walking away. Flicking the palm size 'phone open and greeting his friend jovially.

Scott leaned closer to his brother. "He knows we're lying, just tell him the truth. Tell him it was me. I can handle the consequences."

Virgil shook his head sadly. "No, we're both equally to blame." He said softly, rolling his head closer to his brother. "Just do as I say, he doesn't need to know. I should have told you."

"Told me what? Virgil, you're not making any sense." Scott said softly. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head when you fell?"

Virgil scoffed at his brother's genuine concern. "I'm sure. I'm alright Scott." He paused. "Look, we can talk about this later." He met Scott's gaze, pleadingly. "Please Scott, Dad doesn't need this and neither do you. It's better this way. Trust me, don't say anything. If you can't do it for yourself or Dad, do it for me."

Scott seemed to hesitate for a long time. Then as Jeff snapped the 'phone shut and strode over, he nodded softly in Virgil's direction.

"Right then." Jeff began as he sat alongside Virgil on the bed. "Somebody better start talking…"

Virgil and Scott exchanged glances before the former began. With Scott's help, hopefully convincing their father that this was, to all intents and purposes, an accident.

XxxxX

"Stop deluding yourself Kid!" Gordon crowed as he let himself and his younger brother into their room. "She was definitely looking at me."

"Don't call me Kid." Alan retorted petulantly. "And she was looking at me! You're just jealous!"

"Jealous!" Gordon exclaimed as they made their way into the room. "Why would I be jealous? Look, if it means that much to you, you're welcome to her." He shrugged nonchalantly. "You know what they say about us sailors having a girl in every port!" He winked at his brother, sniggering.

"You're not a sailor." Alan pulled a face and flopped down onto one of the beds. "Hey guys!" He changed the subject, looking up to Sam and John. Both mumbled a reply, too deep in thought to be coherent. He turned his attention back to Gordon. "Beside, you shouldn't be looking. I thought you were going to make a move on that Captain you'd got your eye on."

"Alan!" Gordon exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "I told you that in confidence!" He hissed.

"Ah come on! Calm down!" Alan waved a hand vaguely in the direction where Sam and John huddled around a tiny computer. "They're too engrossed in their brainy science stuff to be listening to us!"

Gordon coloured when both Sam and John turned slowly to face them. He tuned on his brother, half heartedly annoyed. He reached for the nearest object, luckily a pillow and threw it. "Oh scary Gords." Alan grinned sarcastically. "I haven't had a pillow thrown at me since I was… eleven. Grow up!" He paused, turning his attention elsewhere. "What are you two doing anyway?" He asked with a frown of intrigue as he laughed off Gordon's attack.

More than prepared to let his teasing cease, Gordon grinned and sat up; also intrigued. He was unable to muster up any further retaliation anyway. It seemed unfair when he was secretly pleased at this albeit temporary, return to Alan's usual self.

"Going over the stuff from the car." Sam said distractedly.

"Are these the camera recordings?" Alan picked up the black discs and was surprised when both John and Sam turned sharply to look at him. "What?"

"Nothing." Sam said quickly as he snatched the items from Alan's hand and stuffed them both in his pocket. "There's nothing on them." He lied. "We tried, but the discs are too scratched to be of any use. Right John?" He turned to the blonde haired Tracy, hastily requiring back up.

"Yeah." John agreed a little too enthusiastically. "Too much damage."

"Oh, right." Alan frowned at their suspicious behaviour. "Okay, well what have you been doing all afternoon then?"

"We've made a reconstruction of the crash." Sam told them excitedly. "Want to see?"

"Really?" Gordon seemed surprised yet interested. "How does it work? Can we really see it?"

"Oh." Alan sunk back against the mattress, his interest waning. Gordon, on the other hand, jumped enthusiastically to his feet.

"Sure." John replied in answer to Gordon's question. "Watch the TV." He gestured with one hand to the flat screen as he explained. "We ran a programme that can estimate the damage to the car but we're still waiting for some of the results. In the meantime, we loaded on a copy of the track and the computer ran a simulation of what may have happened." He paused to shrug. "It's not exact or anything; it's just one theory, of many."

"Wow!" Gordon exclaimed. "I never knew you could do that, that's amazing. Cool!"

"Wait until you see it!" John exclaimed. The screen flickered into life and the computerised image of the track and cars appeared.

"This is Alan's car here." Sam pointed out with the wrong end of a pen. "And this one's Marks." He waited for the programme to run and the animated cars to start moving.

Alan found he couldn't turn away from the unfolding presentation. His eyes glued to the screen despite the fact that it was the last thing he wanted to see. His palms began to get sweaty and he swallowed in a futile attempt to quell his suddenly dry mouth. Wiping his hands on his shirt, he realised Sam was talking Gordon through the crash. The younger blonde wasn't really listening to the mechanic as he watched 'his' car spin until Mark's careered into it. The animation was surprisingly accurate, right down to when he jumped and a little caricatured version of himself rolled away from the danger. However far from thinking the display 'cool' or 'amazing' as Gordon had proclaimed. Alan raised a hand to his mouth, feeling utterly sick.

"Excuse me." He pushed passed Sam out on to the balcony. Desperate for fresh air and to get away from having to relive that nightmare, yet again. No matter how unrealistic the animated depiction was.

"Perhaps that wasn't such a good idea." Gordon said softly, watching his brother's exit.

"Damn!" Sam cursed. "I should've thought, I'll go and talk to him."

Gordon was about to offer his services but John made it clear that he wanted a word, no doubt to ensure his younger brothers had reconciled. So Gordon let Sam go, moving over to John as the mechanic followed Alan out onto the balcony.

"I'm sorry, Al." He said, coming to stand alongside his younger counterpart. "I should've thought; that was really inconsiderate. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No." Alan shook his head. "I overreacted. I'm sorry. It's just you make it all seem so clear and clean-cut and it wasn't like that at all."

"I know. It was horrible… I mean, it must have been, I'm sorry." Sam continued.

Alan didn't pick up on the slip. "It was chaos in that car. Virgil was yelling at me and we were spinning so fast, Sam. It wasn't calm or coordinated; in fact it was the complete opposite." He paused. "And it wasn't 'cool', it was scary." He impersonated Gordon, with a gentle but exhausted sigh.

"I don't think he meant the crash was cool, I think he meant the technology." Sam put forward, watching Alan sigh.

"I know." Alan shrugged, sighing again. "I'm sorry." Sam placed a hand on his back, squeezing his uninjured shoulder in an attempt to comfort the young man. "Listen, I err, I wanted to talk to you anyway. To thank you, for everything you've done."

The mechanic frowned. "You make it sound like you won't be needing my services anymore." He paused. "I thought you were going to wait and see how you felt later."

"Honestly, Sam." Alan said frankly. "I don't see how anything that happens on Wednesday is going to make me feel any better. The man still died and I can't kid myself into believing that it hasn't affected me." He paused, looking out over the city. "I really appreciate everything you've done Sam, and Kenny Malone too."

"I know you do Al, but let's just see how Wednesday goes first yeah?" Sam suggested. "Virg is right; you shouldn't make any rash decisions just yet. Just give yourself some time first and see what happens."

"Yeah." Alan agreed. "I will, but I just wanted to make sure you knew."

"I know." Sam smiled. "And so do Kenny and Virgil."

"You alright Al?" Alan turned to face Gordon's voice behind him. Taking in the concerned glances both his approaching brothers were giving him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Alan shrugged, smiling at Sam. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to freak out on you."

"It's our fault." John said remorsefully. "We weren't thinking straight, that was really unfair of us."

"Forget it." Alan shrugged. "So have you finished doing all your calculating and stuff?"

John nodded, looking to Sam for conformation. "Yeah, I think we've done enough for one day. Don't you?" The mechanic nodded and he carried on. "Besides my brain was starting to hurt with all that screen watching."

"Brain?" Gordon was mocking. "What brain?" He dodged an annoyed glance from John and then swatted back a playful slap on the arm.

"Y'know with comments like that, I'm real pleased I don't live with you guys anymore." John sighed, sitting down in one of the chairs on the balcony. Gordon joined him, a mischievous smirk still lingering on his lips.

"Y'know." Alan started. "The idea of you all coming to see me race was so that we could spend some time together. Throughout the whole weekend, I don't think we've spent any time together, not all of us."

Gordon nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. So why don't we go out tonight, go for a drink together or something?"

Alan smiled at the idea. "Yeah that'd be nice." He turned to John. "John, what do you think?"

The older blonde smiled too, pleased to see the grin on his younger brothers lips as much as anything. "Yeah, great idea Al. Sam?"

The mechanic seemed surprised. "Me? I thought you'd want to go, just you five. It should be a family thing. I'll stay here; take your Dad with you. "

"Dad?" Gordon laughed. "You've got to be kidding me! It's bad enough Scott'll be there. Dad would seriously cramp our style." Gordon waved a hand, dismissing the idea. "Besides, don't be silly, we're not going to leave you here on your own!"

"You'll come, won't you?" Alan asked.

"Well, yeah." Sam smiled. "If you're sure you don't mind."

"Of course not!" John replied. "Somebody better find Scott and Virgil though and see if they've got anything planned." He aimed the comment at Sam.

"Planned?" Gordon scoffed. "Those two! Yeah, probably knitting or basket weaving." He said with a sarcastic grin.

"Last I heard, Virgil went out to the gardens to paint." Sam said conversationally, trying not to show his concern. "I don't know where Scott was going." He shook his head. Glancing at John, knowing full well where they both were. "Do you want me to go and find them?"

"Nah." Alan shrugged, glancing up at the looming dark clouds. "It looks like it's going to rain. Virgil will have gone inside by now and I'll bet you any money that they'll be together, wherever they are."

Gordon nodded. "He's right. I'll give Scott a call."

John realised that if Scott were confronting Virgil about the video footage, as he suspected, then disturbing them would not be a good idea. He looked across at Sam; seeing his thoughts reflected in the mechanics eyes. "I'll call him Gordy, give him a few minutes."

When Gordon agreed with a simple, "Sure." John smiled falsely, pleased that the moment had passed without comment from either of his other brothers. He hated having to lie to them but was comforted by the knowledge that should Alan find out the truth about what happened after he'd jumped. He'd not only be devastated to know what Virgil'd been through but he'd never be able to forgive himself for not staying in the car.

"It'll be fun." Alan was nodding with a smile. "As long as we don't have to talk about this damned investigation." He said morosely.

John smiled. Taking in the inquisitive, yet serious look on Gordon's face. He intended to get revenge for his earlier teasing.

"Oh no," He smirked widely. "I think we've got plenty of other things to discuss." He grinned especially at Gordon as he got to his feet. "Like this Captain Gordon's so interested in." He grinned again, placing a hand around Alan's shoulders carefully. "So come on Al, spill it. You've got a choice; you either tell me or you tell Scott and Virg." The two blonde brothers smirked and whispered as they both walked back into the room. "Now, what do you know?"

"Now hold in a minute!" Gordon jumped to his feet, hastily following them. Leaving Sam on the balcony shaking his head and smiling at the brothers' humour.

XxxxX

"Jeff!" The tall, stocky man smiled widely as he extended his hand. "It's good to see you."

"You too Charlie, you too." Jeff smiled a greeting in return but couldn't help the worry eating away at him from showing either. "It's just a shame it's not under better circumstances." He said softly, as he shook his friends hand warmly and felt a pat on the back.

"Don't tell me this is Scott!" The doctor exclaimed, eyeing the tall, dark haired pilot. His handsome features were obscured due to the way he frowned at his younger brother. "Good Lord isn't he the spitting image of you Jeff, when you were his age! Well, the last time I saw you, young man, I'll bet you weren't even this high." He reached a hand out to half way down his chest. "Chasing my Kirsten round the garden, if I remember correctly." He laughed.

Jeff smiled fondly. "Yes, yes I think you could be right there Charlie." He laughed. "How is Kirsty?"

"Oh she's fine, followed in my footsteps after all." He beamed proudly. "She's an emergency doctor now, practically runs one of those Emergency Departments single headedly!" He smirked, with fatherly pride again. "Speaking of doctoring…" He made his way over to where Virgil lay. "Your father tells me you've been in the wars Virgil." He addressed the chestnut haired man.

Virgil just nodded. "A bit." Had it been a painless process he would have squirmed underneath the dual gazes of his older brother and father. "I told them, I'm alright." Virgil sighed softly, unable to conceal the wince.

"Hmm," Charlie was frowning as he perched on the bed and opened the small black bag he'd brought with him. "Well I think I'll be the judge of that." He smiled good naturedly. "Now, tell me what happened this afternoon. You passed out, didn't you?"

Virgil repeated the tale he'd told earlier. Not ignorant of the way that Jeff scrutinized Scott as his brother guiltily looked away. "Okay, then." Charlie dragged Virgil's gaze from his brother, and rumbled around in his bag to withdraw a small pencil light. "I'm just going to look into your eyes, Virgil. I need you to relax for me, okay?"

Virgil nodded cautiously as he felt the older man's hands on his face, softly prizing his eyes open and shining the light in. "You didn't hit your head or hurt yourself any further when you passed out? Any neck pain?" He asked as he withdrew and Virgil blinked to refocus his vision.

"No and no." Virgil responded.

"Okay, let's take a look at these ribs then." He lifted up the hem of Virgil's shirt and frowned. "Were the bruises like this at the hospital or have they gotten worse?" Virgil hesitated, gazing across to where his father and older brother stood, not far away. Charlie obviously picked up on the young mans uncertainty and looked up to his friend. "Oh Jeff, didn't the hospital give you a copy of the records they made?"

The oldest Tracy nodded. "Yes, Scott gave them to me when he got back. Would you like to see them?"

"Yes please, that'd be very helpful." Charlie, said as he busied himself with putting his pencil light away.

"Scott, will you go and fetch them? They're in the safe in my room." Scott turned to his father, clearly unwilling.

"Actually Jeff," Charlie smiled. "I was hoping you'd go so as I could send young Scott here to get me a cup of tea. You don't mind do you Scott?"

Scott shook his head, despite looking to the 'phone and briefly wondering why room service couldn't bring one up.

After a few minutes, both he and Jeff departed. Leaving Charlie alone with their patient, as had been his intention.

On the other side of the door, Scott was unsurprised when his father grasped his arm before he could walk away.

"Scott, I know you're not telling me something. I'm trusting you that it's nothing that could affect Virgil's health." Jeff eyed him warily. "If it is something that I should be aware of, you need to tell me. Now Son."

Scott shook his head. "It's not Dad. We were … I was trying to talk to him, that's all." He paused. "All this kind of happened at an awkward time."

"Hmm." Jeff seemed unhappy with the reply. "Just so long as bad timing's all it is."

Scott nodded. "It is. Look, I'll talk to him again later; I'll make sure things are right between us. I promise you."

"It's funny you should say that Scott." Jeff frowned as he began to walk away. "Someone else made me that very promise not five hours ago."

Scott frowned after him for a few minutes before the penny dropped. Silently brooding, he made his way across to the reception area cafeteria.

Meanwhile Charlie was chuckling. "It's only because he's worried about you. It's a father's job to be worried. And quite frankly Virgil, if my Kirsty came home with these bruises, I think I'd be worried too." He looked to Virgil for an explanation. "So are you going to tell me what happened?"

The younger man shrugged sheepishly. "I didn't feel this bad at the hospital; most of it came on yesterday. I was…upset and I went for a walk." He cringed as he admitted his foolishness.

"Well gentle exercise can be good for these kinds of injuries." Charlie told him. "If you can tolerate it."

Virgil grimaced. "It wasn't exactly gentle. Every step I took it hurt more than the last but it seemed a better option than facing the music back here." He sighed again. "I may have pushed myself a little too hard. Ever since then, my chests felt really tight. And it's getting harder to breathe. To begin with, I thought it was just my ribs but the more time goes on, the more it hurts. The pain medication the hospital doctor prescribed doesn't do anything for me. And whereas before resting used to lessen the pain, now resting doesn't seem to make it any better."

"May have over done it?" Charlie raised an eyebrow, critically looking down at Virgil's chest. "And you said you were fine!" Charlie exclaimed. "Virgil," He began with a sigh. "Usually when we feel pain it's our body's way of telling us that we need to take it easy. These injuries aren't going to heal if you keep ignoring what your body is telling you."

"I know." Virgil said sadly. "I know it was a stupid thing to do and I'm paying for it now. Believe me; I won't be doing it again."

Charlie sighed. "I take it your father doesn't know about this little excursion?" Virgil shook his head and the doctor nodded. "I suppose he's worried enough with Alan hurt as well." Charlie theorised.

"Yeah." Virgil agreed. "You could say that. Plus there's this investigation, we've all been under a lot of stress. Worrying about me is the last thing he needs. I've learned from my mistake, I'd appreciate it if it didn't go any further."

Charlie nodded reluctantly. "I respect your decision, even if I don't agree with it. Your father's very worried about you."

"I know." Virgil sighed heavily, inciting a wince.

"Does that hurt?" Charlie enquired with a frown. When Virgil nodded, he continued. "So it hurts you to take deep breathes?"

"Yeah." Virgil confirmed.

"And is the pain confined to your chest?" Charlie frowned. He sat back from his perched position on the bed. One arm wrapped around his chest as the other stroked his chin in contemplation.

Virgil nodded. "Yeah…" He hesitated. "My left arm kind of … tingles sometimes."

"And does the pain increase with movement?"

"Yeah." Virgil told him.

Charlie nodded. "Okay, first things first." He rummaged around in his bag once more. Eventually, pulling out a silver box and putting it down on the bed. "This machine here…" He gestured to the box, opening it up to reveal a small screen and a few buttons. "Is going to record your heart rate, blood pressure and temperature amongst other things. Alright?" Virgil just nodded, as Charlie expertly connected all the necessary wires to appropriate places about his body. "Now, I'm going to feel your ribs. I want you to tell me if it the pain increases when I put pressure on certain areas. Okay?" Virgil nodded in response and settled back, looking at the ceiling. "I'm not going to lie to you Virgil, this will probably be uncomfortable."

Uncomfortable was the understatement. Cold hands worked their way down his chest painfully slowly. Virgil bit his lips together tightly, trying to somehow avoid the pain Charlie was inflicting. "When I press here, does that hurt?"

Virgil's groan in reply was enough. He rolled his head away in an effort to evade the agony that erupted in his chest.

"I'll take that as a yes." Charlie said. Smiling sympathetically towards his patient. "Okay, just once more. How about here?"

Virgil braced himself. He couldn't stop himself stiffening though, and that was indication enough of his distress. "Okay." Charlie sighed. "That's fine." He sat back as Virgil struggled to drag air into his lungs. Charlie fumbled around in his black bag. "Well," He sighed. "It is natural that the bruising would come out later on. However, you've probably done more damage to parts that were already injured. I hate to say this Son, but you really shouldn't have pushed yourself like that." He gave Virgil a stern look before turning away. "Still," He said brightly. "It's nothing that won't heal; you've just made it a harder and longer process." Virgil felt his cheeks flush at the lecture, embarrassed at his own stupidity.

Charlie smiled reassuringly as he carried on. "I'm just going to listen to your heart and lungs okay?" He leant forward. Reaching for the stethoscope in his black bag, warming the metal end in his hands. "Okay, now I want you to breath in as deeply as you can but not so as it hurts." He reached forward, placing the stethoscope in the correct position and listening hard. "Okay, that's good and again." Virgil complied once more and the process was repeated on his opposite side.

"Right." Charlie sat back, pulling the stethoscope down so as it dangled around his neck. "Now I need you to sit up for me." He held out his arm, strategically placing his hands about the younger but larger man's chest and helping him up. The listening process was repeated as the stethoscope was held to his back before he lay back down. Finally Charlie placed the item away. "How's that wrist holding up?" He asked, gesturing to the bandaged limb.

Virgil shrugged. "Not too bad." He gingerly rotated his wrist. "It kind of pails into insignificance with the rest of it."

The door opened with a clatter as Jeff returned. "Here you go Charlie." He passed his friend the document and retreated to a safe distance. "That's the only hard copy we've got, all the rest is on the disk." He watched the doctor absorb the file, nodding and muttering. His own attention turned to Virgil. He still looked too pale for Jeff's liking and he seemed a little distant too. The wiring spread across his second eldest son's chest did not bode well and Jeff's worry only increased.

"Okay." Charlie glanced up to where Jeff sat on Scott's bed, obviously worried. "And this medication's not making much difference with the pain?" He picked up the bottle on the bedside table and read the label.

"Not really." Virgil said honestly. "I'm managing though."

"Hmm." Charlie muttered again, making himself comfortable on the bed. He placed a hand on the top of Virgil's arm in a comforting gesture. "I'm sure you are Son." He smiled as he went about retrieving the information gathered by the small solver box. Going on to study it with the odd mumble and frequent nod. "But we can't have you fine Tracy men collapsing all over the place. Ruining that sturdy reputation you've built up, now can we?" He paused as the door banged open again and everyone looked up.

Scott absently placed the cup of tea in his hands on a surface out of the way, having realised it only really served as a distraction. He glanced at the array of monitoring equipment on Virgil's chest and the soft beep of his heartbeat that the small silver box was monitoring. His eyes widened, before he met Virgil's gaze. Scott became immediately anxious at the scene in front of him and found himself wondering just how serious the situation was. Virgil for his part, saw Scott's worry and attempted to reassure him with a confident smile. Scott just numbly sat down alongside his father.

"Well Charlie," Jeff was saying. "What's the verdict?" His anxious frown exposed his fears.

"Jeff, I think Virgil is suffering from a condition called Costochondritis."

"Costa what?" Scott's eyebrows raised.

"What's that?" Virgil frowned.

"Costochondritis. It's aggravation or inflammation of the junctions where the upper ribs join with the cartilage that holds them to the breastbone or sternum. It causes localised pain, sometimes in the arms and abdomen. That pain can usually be reproduced by putting pressure on the cartilage at the front of the chest." He paused to glance solely down at Virgil. "As I did earlier." He brought his vision up to Scott and Jeff. "It's a relatively harmless condition and it'll usually heal itself without any specific treatment of any kind."

Scott looked across to Virgil anxiously. Apparently, not buying Charlie's last words. "What's caused it Charlie?" He frowned.

"Well sometimes it's difficult to pinpoint a cause as such." Charlie sighed. "It's a condition that's aggravated by stress. I can only assume the stress of Virgil's interview this morning would have contributed to the pain he was experiencing before he passed out." Scott silently considered how big a part he'd played in amplifying Virgil's stress. "The risk of developing Costochondritis increases with any physical activity that causes trauma or strain to the ribcage, especially after an injury has already occurred. It's usually worsened by activity or exercise." He glanced down to Virgil, to ensure he'd made his point. Virgil swallowed in an effort to prevent his checks from flushing again. He could practically feel Scott's gaze on him.

"Don't you need to run more tests Charlie?" Unsurprisingly the question came from Jeff.

"Not in this instance Jeff." Charlie shook his head. "The patient's medical history and an examination are usually adequate. I'm satisfied that the pattern of pain doesn't suggest any other cause. It's not exactly a common problem but having said that, it is most common in chest trauma cases. Virgil's blood pressure, heart rate and pulse are all textbook. His temperatures a little elevated but that's to be expected with this condition."

"Can you give me anything that'll help?" Virgil frowned.

"I'm afraid there is no definitive treatment that will cure Costochondritis. However, there are several helpful things to do in order to help manage the symptoms. That's the best we can do." Charlie leaned forward, ready to count off each method with his fingers. "Firstly; rest. In order to decrease the inflammation, you will have to avoid activities that cause pain and exacerbation of the inflammation. Exercise, deep breathing, and strain on the muscles of the chest may worsen the symptoms of pain and slow the healing process. However, we'll talk about breathing in a minute. As a general rule of thumb, avoid or limit activities that worsen your pain." Charlie took a breath himself, linking a finger around the next digit of the hand he held out. "Secondly, ice packs or heating pads. Now, I'm presuming Dr Williams mentioned that?"

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, I remember now."

"Whichever of these techniques help to decrease your pain, use it. Usually for about ten to twenty minutes at a time." Charlie smiled at his patient. "Believe me, it'll help and you'll start to feel the difference pretty quickly. Obviously, avoid unnecessary exercise or activities that make the symptoms worse." Virgil looked to the floor at the obviously pointed comment.

"How long should he expect to feel like this Charlie?" Jeff asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"It should heal itself within three to six weeks. You really need to make an appointment with your own physician when you get back to…" Charlie hesitated, thinking. "Aren't you at still in Colorado Virgil?"

"Denver." Virgil corrected. "I'll make an appointment to see a doctor as soon as I get back."

Charlie nodded, obviously approving. "Good. Now about what I said earlier regarding not worsening the pain by taking deep breathes. When you were at the hospital Virgil, did the Doctor mention anything about your breathing?"

Virgil looked to Scott, but shook his head indicating that he didn't think so. "Not that I'm aware of." Virgil frowned. "But then again, after he gave me that sedative I was pretty out of it. Scott?" He queried.

"No, not whilst I was around." Scott said softly. "But he could still have said something. I mean, you only remembered what he told you about the ice yesterday."

Virgil nodded. "He's right, it gets a bit hazy."

Charlie nodded. "I see. Well frankly, I don't think this medication is the main problem. I'll warn you now, usually pain relief doesn't really help Costochondritis. However, I understand it's not having a worthwhile effect and I'm quite happy to prescribe you something else. You obviously weren't responding to it very well in the first place." He rummaged in his bag again, bringing out a pad of paper and a pen. "I'll prescribe you something stronger in the hope that it'll help ease the pain when you're breathing. It'll need taking regularly but hopefully it'll ease your discomfort more." He paused to write a few notes as he spoke. "Have you been taking ibuprofen as well?"

Virgil nodded in reply. "Yeah."

"Well keep taking that, it'll help with the swelling." Charlie nodded as he scribbled something else down on the file Jeff had handed him.

"Should this Dr Williams have prescribed him something stronger?" Jeff frowned, obviously unhappy at the prospect of his son not getting the best possible care.

"It's difficult to say Jeff; this bruising has come out a lot over the last twenty fours or so. Some people just don't react to pain medication as well as others. This particular type of pain medication isn't working for Virgil and of course, he's now developed Costochondritis; I don't see how Dr Williams could have foreseen any of that." He paused; it was obvious he was holding back to everyone in the room.

"Come on Charlie, be honest with me. He may be a doctor and I know you've got a professional duty of care to him, but I'm your friend." Jeff frowned. "Would you have responded the same way he did?"

"It's impossible to answer that question. If anything I'd say he should really have spoken to Virgil with Scott around but then technically he doesn't have to, it's just more practical in my experience. Legally Dr Williams hasn't done anything wrong. In fact, some hospitals now, will only talk to the patient themselves for confidentiality purposes." Charlie shrugged at his friend as he turned his attention back to Virgil.

But Jeff didn't let it drop. "If there's the slightest possibility he was negligent, I'd want to know Charlie."

Charlie glanced down to Virgil. "Dad please." The patient responded. "I shouldn't have pushed myself so quickly. Just leave it will you? I'm okay now, so stop making a fuss."

Jeff barked a short but sharp ironic laugh. "Fuss? This is nothing; if I find out he was negligent in any way…"

"Dad please." Virgil turned to face him. "I don't want to cause a scene."

Jeff opened his mouth to reply, but was silenced by Scott's hand on his arm. "Dad, Virg is right. He's okay, that's the main thing. Just leave it huh?" The glare both brothers received in return told that the conversation wasn't over yet.

Charlie, however, carried on oblivious. "Emergency departments are NHS run Jeff. Now I know it's come along leaps and bounds over the last decade or so, but … Well, I'm afraid that's the reality of it. The care might not be up to your usual standards." He grinned, as he turned back to his patient and away from the debate. "Now, there is one other thing that worries me Virgil. I am a bit concerned about your breathing, which is my main reasoning for prescribing you the different pain medication." He said softly.

"His breathing!" Jeff exclaimed, his frown deepening.

"What's wrong with his breathing?" Scott matched the tone and expression.

"Well," Charlie sat back form his perched position on the bed so as he could see all three of them. However, he still directed his speech at Virgil. "Your breathings very shallow, Virgil." He glanced across to see both Jeff and Scott were sat bolt upright, obviously worried. "It's not really any cause for great concern just yet." He emphasised. "However, it's not a good thing. It means there's the potential for infection. Believe me, the last thing you need right now is a chest infection or worse, pneumonia."

"And did this Dr Williams miss that too?" Jeff asked, almost snapping at his friend.

Charlie took it all in his stride though. "Oh no Jeff this is a very common problem with rib injuries and it's probably got progressively worse over the last two days." He paused before launching into an explanation. "Because Virgil's ribs are extremely painful, seeking to lessen the pain he's not been breathing correctly. Unfortunately, only moving the ribs minimally also restricts lung and subsequent air movement. This means that natural secretions from breathing, which are normally coughed up through movement of air… well they just aren't. These than settle and consolidate in the air sacs of the lungs and eventually the lungs can't fulfil there primary function; gas exchange. That's when infection sets in, usually leading to pneumonia or bronchitis."

The doctor looked up to see what kind of a reaction this explanation was getting, and was only met with three equally anxious frowns.

"Hopefully the pain medication I've prescribed will ease Virgil's ribs enough so that he can take deeper breathes" He paused, seeing the anxiousness not showing signs of lessening. "I don't want you to worry unnecessarily; this isn't a problem, but it has the potential to be one." Charlie turned back to Virgil. "I know it's sometimes painful but you should try to take a good deep breath every few minutes. Also, prop yourself up; don't lie flat on you back. That should help with the breathing." Virgil seemed to nod slightly as if accepting the words and Charlie noted Scott was listening carefully. He paused to take a breath before continuing. "The best advice I can give you is lots of rest, the last thing you want now is any bacterial infection. So, no hiking in the gardens and no stressful physical activity. I know it's difficult at the moment with the strain you're all under but I want you to try not to get stressed too. Take it easy, you have four brothers and a father to fuss around you. So you sit back, relax and let them fuss. Okay?"

Virgil nodded reluctantly, evidently uneasy about that last order. Especially at the glance he was receiving from Scott at the comment. "Does he need to take these pills…" Scott reached for the newly prescribed pills and palmed the label. "…with food or anything?"

"No." Charlie's reply came. "No food, just take them with water but you should wait until you're sure the other pills have left your system; we don't want you overdosing. They do need taking regularly; five times a day." Scott nodded, accepting the reply and Charlie turned back to Virgil. "If you have any problems whilst you're still in England give me a call and I'll come back. Or if you've got any queries at all just give me a call."

"We really appreciate you doing this Charlie, thanks." Jeff said sincerely.

"Not at all Jeff, not at all." He packed his things away and finished adding a few notes to the hospital file. "Remember what I said, young man." He got to his feet addressing Virgil. "Sit up, lots of rest, deep breathes every so often and keep taking the pills." He smiled as he picked his bag up and Scott rose to meet him as he made his way around the bed. "And remember, no extra stress."

Jeff also stood, talking to Virgil quietly for a few minutes. Eventually, he perched on the bed, deep in conversation.

"Thanks for coming out like this Charlie," Scott was saying as the doctor reached for the lukewarm cup of tea Scott had left him. "We do really appreciate it."

"I know Scott." Charlie smiled. He took a sip from the white cup in his hands and watched Scot's gaze drift back to where Jeff had perched on the bed. Still hovering over his brother, plumping up pillows. "You're still very close aren't you?" Charlie's words startled the young pilot. He turned to the doctor, a little surprised at the comment. "Well, you two always have been. I always thought you both leaving home and the responsibility of looking after the others behind, would mean you'd drift apart. Your father was right though, you're still close."

"I guess, but not as close as we used to be. Sometimes I wish I could go back to those days." Scott sighed distractedly, deep in thought. "Especially at times like this. It's going to be hard going back tomorrow, leaving him behind when I know he's like this."

"I know you're worried about him Scott, but in reality, I've seen a hell of a lot worse. He's fit and strong and he'll soon recover from this." Charlie assured him, soon finishing off the warm tea. "Try not to worry, he'll be fine." He paused, noticing how his words weren't having the desired soothing effect on the eldest of Jeff Tracy's sons. "Unless there was something else Scott?"

Scott turned to him, surprised at his acuity. He took in a deep breath. "Actually," He glanced back to Virgil and his father to check they were still engaged in meaningful conversation. Taking Charlie's arm, he pulled him further out of the room. "There's another reason why I'm worried about him. .." Scott shook his head sadly, fast approaching his wits end. "He's not coping with this very well."

Charlie nodded in understanding, an inquisitive yet concerned frown tugging at his brow. "How do you mean?"

"I'm worried it might go deeper than we can handle." Scott confided cautiously.

"You mean some kind of emotional or shock disorder? Has his sleep been disturbed?" Charlie frowned, surprised at the candidness of the confession. It wasn't something this family was renowned for; he concluded Scott must be worried indeed to approach him with such a concern.

Scott nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess so. He's been up well before me for the last two days."

"And that's unusual?" When Scott nodded in reply to Charlie's question, the doctor continued. "How about his behaviour; he seemed a little withdrawn. Is he always that quiet or have you noticed a change? Perhaps he's a little short tempered or snappy?"

Scott sighed, shaking his head. "Virgil is one of the calmest guys I know. It doesn't matter if the skies caving in and its raining canon balls, he'll be calm and he'll keep me calm but yesterday…. He's not thinking clearly. Yesterday he was irritable and completely irrational. And… and just a few hours ago, he was hysterical. I'll be honest Charlie; I'm really worried about him. I'd talk to Dad but he has enough on his plate at the minute, without all this. I'm asking your medical opinion. Honestly, what do you think?"

Charlie leant against the doorframe. "Scott…" He sighed, shaking his head. "Withdrawal, anger, behavioural changes and the sleep disruption; its all normal." He shook his head slightly. "That crash can't have been pleasant for him, Scott. I know his behaviour might be disturbing but I assure you it's a natural reaction to such a traumatic experience. Sometimes people just don't deal with things how we would expect them to. Virgil's reaction is perfectly understandable, just give him some time."

"The fact that he's constantly blocking me out and pushing me away isn't natural, or normal, and it's not Virgil. He's not like that, I just think the barriers are starting to come down and he suddenly clams up again." Scott shook his head with a sigh. "I know it's normal for him to feel vulnerable right now, and I know he's still trying to cope with all this. But I'm normally a part of that coping process Charlie."

"Scott, we all have our own emotional and psychological scars to deal with, and we all deal with them how we see fit. The key is not to try doing it on your own. " He patted Scott's shoulder. "Be honest with him and make sure he knows you're there, the rest will come eventually. If what your father told me of that crash if anything to go by, he's had a pretty tough time of it. Look, Son." Charlie sighed. "Virgil's a lot stronger than you think. I'm ex – RAF Scott, I know what you're thinking. But you can't compare Virgil's reaction to the men you've seen breakdown. Just like you can't compare a car crash, no matter how bad, to the scenes those same men are exposed to. I know it's difficult when you've seen how easy it is to lose control but there's a line between a soldier and a civilian. You don't really realise how big that line is, until you get out. You'll see."

Scott nodded, silently wondering whether his experiences of military breakdowns were shadowing his thinking. Sighing he looked up to the doctor. "Yeah, you're right. Virgil's nothing like them."

Charlie reached out and took a firm grip of the top of Scott's shoulders. "Trust me Son; it's a perfectly acceptable, natural reaction; Virgil will be just fine. If you're still worried about him when those ribs have healed, give me a call. You know as well as I do Scott this kind of thing just takes longer to heal. It doesn't mean it doesn't need treating," He smiled knowingly, "A little big brotherly TLC could go a long way."

Scott smiled, feeling a little relieved. "Thanks Charlie."

"Not a problem." He paused. "Just make sure you keep an eye on his breathing."

"Don't worry, I'll look after him." Scott promised, with newfound strength.

"We all will." A deep voice from behind him made Scott jump and turn quickly. "Come on Charlie," Jeff smiled. "Ill show you out."

Scott sighed sombrely as he perched on the bed, watching Virgil's chest rise and fall for a few minutes. He'd watched that same chest rise and fall on the playback. Thoughts rushed through his head at lightening speed as he sat there. Just trying to bring some kind of order to his confused, anxious feelings. Virgil's behaviour earlier had troubled him greatly and though he was loathe to admit it, it scared him to see his brother lose control as he had with the sketchbook. That's what had made him consider the fact that this might be too great an emotional burden for Virgil to carry. Virgil was at all times cool, calm and collected.

He didn't lose control.

Ever.

He was always the one to calm Scott's own rising temper. Had his brother really changed that much? Or was this an indication of the terrible weight on his shoulders? Either way it had terrified Scott to see it, almost as much as it had broken his heart to watch the playback. Is that what this insecurity stemmed from? Scott thought; his own fear?

He was reassured by the knowledge that Charlie had been right. Subconsciously he was putting Virgil on a par with colleagues he'd known, colleagues that were no longer. Perhaps that's why Virgil's guarded and detached behaviour troubled him so much, he pondered. Perhaps he was being overzealous. Afraid that his brother; a man who had held him together more times in his life than he cared to remember, was becoming suffocated by his own internal suffering. He'd seen men crumble under the emotional and psychological pressures of his job, men that he had thought it impossible to affect.

Scott shook his head, unwilling to believe Virgil was one of those men and forcing himself to recall Charlie's words. His earlier discussion with his brother resounded in his head like a tennis ball. Much of what Virgil had said was true, unwelcome maybe, but definitely true. He became mesmerized by the rise and fall of his brother's chest, as he truly comprehended Virgil's words. For the first time, it all clicked into place; John's words before he confronted Virgil, Alan's words in the car, even Gordon the night of the crash. They had all tried to warn him in their own way, only he'd been too blind to see it. Now it had taken Virgil to knock the truth home, in the most painful way possible. And the worst thing about the whole atrocious situation? He had no-one to blame but himself. His own arrogance prevented him from taking on board his brothers comments. And it was his own pig headed desire to be needed, that had forced Virgil into a conversation he wasn't ready for. Now he was obliged to face those facts. Silently he nursed the devastation and deep sorrow continuing to perforate his very soul, at such inevitable realisations.


	18. Elusion

Authors Note; Dah, dah… My sincerest apologies for the wait on this chapter. Real life is really taking precedence at the minute, so my editing is taking a bit of a back seat. I did try to put this up on Friday but the site wasn't playing ball. Thanks to all those who commented on the last chapter, it's these last few that I'm the most apprehensive about. Apologies again for the delay, I can only hope it's worth the wait.

Chapter Eighteen – Elusion 

_A little big brotherly TLC could go a long way._

It was with that last thought in mind that he reached out to his brother.

Virgil's head had slumped forward causing the hair that had matted to his forehead earlier, to flop into his closed eyes. Scott reached a hand out to remove the inconsequential strands of chestnut, a sombre frown of woe betraying his features. He was surprised when Virgil's eyes opened and pulled his hand away sharply, as if the touch had somehow scalded him. The mattress wobbled under the sudden change in his weight distribution.

"Sorry." He apologised awkwardly. Looking down to his lap, he fiddled with his hands. Too embarrassed to look up at his brother. "I thought you were asleep."

Virgil shook his head, swallowing against the uncomfortable atmosphere that seemed to have settled around them. "No, just resting my eyes." There was a long pause before he spoke again; trying to fill the discomfiture they'd lapsed into. It was not a feeling he was used to experiencing with Scott. "Where's Dad?" He glanced around the room, expecting to spy his father.

"I convinced him to go for a drink with Charlie." Scott's tone remained low and unsteady. There was an uncertainty about him that he rarely revealed. Scott was confident at all times. Even if he didn't really feel it, he'd pretend to be. Right now though, there was a nervousness about him, which made Virgil apprehensive too.

"How did you manage that?" Virgil asked in admiration. "The way he came in here, I didn't think wild horses would have moved him."

Scott smiled, albeit briefly. "Yeah well, I think he wanted to quiz Charlie about this Dr Williams. He's concerned that if he'd done his job properly none of this would have happened."

Virgil groaned in exasperation. "I wish he'd just leave it. Does it really matter now? I haven't dropped down…" He trailed off with regard to recent events. "I'm still here. He heard what Charlie said. It doesn't take a genius to figure where his loyalties lie when it comes down to Emergency Departments." Virgil sighed, shaking his head and pausing for a few minutes. "Still didn't think you'd get rid of him that quick though…" He frowned, looking up to Scott suspiciously. He knew his father well enough to realise that it would have taken a hell of a lot of persuasion on Scott's part to convince him to leave.

Scott shrugged. "Oh, he'll be back. I'd bet my inheritance on it. Besides, it wasn't just Charlie." That last sentence just confirmed what Virgil had already known. He frowned, waiting silently for Scott to explain further. "I…" Scott hesitated. "I told him I needed to talk to you … alone."

Virgil's frown deepened. "Scott, I told you. We'll talk about this later."

"No." Scott shook his head. "Not later… Now." Virgil felt the mattress shift again as Scott fiddled uncomfortably. "Virg… I…" He took a deep breath, biting the bullet. "Virgil, I owe you an apology." The sincerity held in the words was by far enough to convey his remorse. However, when Virgil met his gaze, the guilt and shame harboured in his eyes was equally crushing, if not more so. "I don't know what I was thinking…" Scott tried to explain. "I wasn't thinking. I just…"

"It's okay." Virgil murmured, hoping to end Scott's obvious distress. "You've apologised and I've apologised. Let's just forget it."

"No, it's not okay." The fire with which that reply would usually be threaded, was ominously lacking. Scott bowed his head, the disgrace he felt not allowing him to face his brother. "I just felt so angry Virg." He shook his head, a heavy, mournful sigh breaking through. "Not anger at you…" He thought about that comment, remembering the hot surge of rage that he'd succumbed to. "Maybe a little at you, but mostly at me. I let that anger get the better of me and I shouldn't have." He admitted regretfully. "I should never have hit out like that and I'm sorry I hurt you." He paused sincerely. "I would never hurt you, you know that."

"Of course I know that." Virgil said adamantly. "And whose fault was it that you were angry anyway?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Mine. I made you angry, I was the one who kept pushing and pushing." Virgil stopped, shaking his head. "Scott, if I'd told you how much I was hurting, you would never have reached out to me like that. You know that as well as I do."

"Do I?" Scott's reply came immediately. "I'm not so sure about that Virg. I doubt even if I'd known, it would have stopped me. In that moment, I just didn't think about what I was doing. My brain wasn't even functioning."

Virgil was shaking his head. He resisted making a sarcastic comment about Scott's brain function; this wasn't the time or the place. "It wasn't your fault I passed out." He said adamantly. Scott opened his mouth to respond but Virgil carried on quickly. "No, hear me out first!" He held up a hand to silence his brother. "It was my fault I felt so bad, I would've passed out anyway. I should have seen a Doctor long before it came to this. I knew I wasn't right and I've been ignoring it. I was too stubborn to admit I couldn't handle the pain and that I'd pushed myself too hard yesterday." He paused to meet Scott's gaze, already challenging him. "I've been an idiot, Scott."

"If I hadn't pulled on your arm like that you'd never have passed out." Scott frowned, still arguing.

"And if I hadn't made you so angry, you would never have pulled on my arm like that." Virgil argued with a smile.

"No," Scott shook his head. "That's not the point; I should never have lashed out." He closed his eyes, sighing.

"You want me to tell you the point?" Virgil hesitated when Scott made no effort to acknowledge the comment. "Scott, look at me." Scott complied, facing Virgil with those anguished and devastated eyes again. "The point is we were both out of line. And, arguing about which one of was most at fault, isn't getting us anywhere."

Scott frowned at that. He shook his head to indicate his confusion and opened his mouth to respond. Virgil however gave him no such opportunity.

"Scott, I said a whole lot of things earlier that I shouldn't of. If anyone should be apologising, it's me." He paused for a moment. "I know it must have hurt you a lot to hear those words. Especially coming from me." He was sure to catch Scott's gaze. "I'm the one that's sorry." He said sincerely.

Brown eyes met blue, in an effort to convey through their depths just how sorry he was.

Scott was the one to break the fix, looking away and shaking his head. "You don't have to apologise for telling me the truth, Virg. Let's face it, I had it coming." He shook his head morosely. "I deserved it."

Virgil shook his head in disagreement yet again. "No." He stopped. "No, you didn't deserve to hear that."

"Why?" Scott frowned, irritably. He was beginning to tire of this discussion over blame. "Everything you said was true."

Virgil matched his frown, equally tired of Scott taking the sole blame. "It should never have come out like that. Stop trying to shoulder the blame for everything. It was my fault too Scott, I'm big and ugly enough to take responsibility for myself now. Isn't that what this has been all about?"

Scott seemed to ignore the question. "I'm not trying to shoulder the blame; it was my fault…"

"For the last time, it wasn't your fault!" Virgil exclaimed, taking a few minutes to catch his breath. The frustration and irritation in his tone wasn't unnoticed and Scott sat back to look at him, surprised. "This is exactly what I was saying; you can't keep doing this. Not everything that goes wrong in this world is your fault Scott. Don't you think taking responsibility for your own actions is enough?"

"And that's what I'm doing…"

"No, what you're doing is trying to project the blame solely onto you. Just like when we were kids!" Virgil paused to sigh. The deep breath sent a shooting pain through his chest. He closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to steady his breathing.

"Are you alright?" Scott's concerned filled voice penetrated his thinking. When he finally opened his eyes, he was unsurprised that Scott was staring anxiously at him.

"Yeah, just … Just hurts that's all." Virgil admitted. He felt he'd just leaped a hurdle in that confession; opting out of telling Scott he was fine when he wasn't. Not admitting how bad he was feeling had been half the problem this weekend.

"Can I do anything?" Scott sat forward anxiously, awaiting some kind of response.

Virgil shook his head. "No, it'll be fine in a minute."

Scott sat back, hanging his head and feeling deflated. "I'm sorry," He apologised morosely. "Charlie said no extra stress, I didn't mean to hassle you." He evidently felt responsible.

Virgil watched him for a few seconds as he tried to ride out the discomfort. Scott's head remained lowered and his face hidden. However, his body language alone told Virgil that he was devastated. Devastated by his actions, devastated by Virgil's words and devastated by the reality. He fiddled with his fingers repentantly and hid his face, afraid that Virgil would see just how upset he was.

"We were just talking." Virgil watched him but he still looked down to his hands. "Scott?" Scott still made no effort to look up. Virgil saw him swallow two or three times before he tried again. "Scott, don't beat yourself up about this, we're both guilty of…"

"I'll go and fetch you some ice." Scott got to his feet quickly. He didn't look at Virgil as he crossed the short distance to the bathroom. He'd gone before the younger man really registered he'd moved.

As he disappeared inside, Virgil sighed again and let his head rest back on the pillows. He mused that running away had gotten him in to this mess, the last thing he needed was Scott doing the same thing.

The minutes passed by slowly and Virgil frequently contemplated attempting to go after his brother. However, he knew that ice had nothing to do with the reason for Scott's rapid exit. For the sake of his brother's pride, he waited patiently.

Sure enough after a few minutes, Scott could be heard in the Kitchenette. He returned with the same make shift ice packs he had yesterday. "Sorry," He smiled, as he laid them against Virgil's chest. "I couldn't find a towel." Scott went to great pains to look everywhere but actually at his brother. Finally, he sat back. Unable to avoid it any longer; their eyes locked together in an exchange that just proved to Virgil he was lying.

"Thanks." The younger man muttered, volunteering to be the one to break the knowing quiet. "About what I was saying…" He still wasn't prepared to let it drop.

Scott cut him off with a shake of the head. "I don't think we should talk about it. Not if it's going to make you sick." He said firmly. "I think I've done enough of that already."

"Don't." Virgil sympathised with the guilt he knew Scott must be feeling but he wasn't prepared to let him stew. "No way," He replied steadfastly. "No way am I going to sit back and watch you tear strips off yourself for this." He sighed again, a little softer. "Scott, I never meant for it to come out like that. What I said was unfair and yeah, maybe some of it was true, but not all of it. I was frustrated and I was hurting, and … and it all came out wrong." He bit his top lip.

"Does it really matter how it came out?" Scott shrugged. "The fact is you were right."

"No I wasn't." Virgil frowned. "Scott you're not selfish, you're one of the most selfless people I know. Think about all you did for us when we were kids. You've never asked for anything in return, that's not the act of a selfish person."

"You were right though, it wasn't just me. And sometimes I forget what you gave up too. I know it's never been easy for you, growing up in my shadow." Scott sighed, genuinely regretful. "But you were right by my side the whole time and I couldn't have done it without you."

Virgil was shaking his head already. "Of course you could. It wasn't me helping Dad with Al and Gordy. Or holding John, night after night when he cried himself to sleep."

"No," Scott agreed. "You were the one holding me, night after night, when I cried myself to sleep."

There was no reply to that and for a few seconds both of them sat in contemplative silence. Remembering and trying to forget all at the same time. The few seconds rolled into minutes of quiet reflection.

"Even so…" Virgil began. "I can never know how hard it was for you Scott, not really."

"Yeah you do." Scott sighed, raising his eyes to meet Virgil's. "You know alright, because you were there." He paused, sniffing. "You knew then and you know now." He scoffed a laugh. "You always know. In fact, sometimes you know better than I do." He smiled briefly, Virgil returned the gesture but Scott paused glumly. "You knew earlier too, and you were right. I am selfish because I…" He hesitated. Virgil thought he saw his brother's lips begin to tremble but Scott bit them together, hard. After a few seconds, he continued. "Because I can't move on, I can't let go."

"Scott…" Virgil's attempt to stop him was ignored completely.

"And you're right, I am scared." Scott admitted, looking up to his brother and awaiting a reaction.

"I just told you you're not…" Virgil stopped himself. He processed Scott's words slowly; shocked to hear such an overt confession from his brother. His brother who denied experiencing fear, even when Virgil knew perfectly well he was afraid. His brother who guarded his feelings so closely and carefully. Who barely allowed even Virgil to comprehend his deepest thoughts at times. Virgil's head snapped up to look Scott in the eye. For a few moments, he could see the despair those words told of reflected in the pools of blue. "What of?" He frowned, unsure how Scott would respond.

Scott just shrugged. "Lots of things." He paused. "Everything you said before; that they won't need me anymore, losing control, what else I'll lose as things change…" He trailed off. "Everything."

"They'll always need you, we all will." Virgil assured him immediately. The authenticity of his words could never be questioned.

"Yeah but in what context?" Virgil's words didn't seem to have the desired effect. Scott's deflated tone continued. "I've always been more than just a big brother to Alan and Gordon, even John sometimes. I mean, I held Alan when he was a baby. I fed him, I rocked him to sleep in my arms." He paused to allow a wistful smile to play on his lips. "I was more like a second father to him when he was growing up. I don't know if I can go back to just being a big brother now." He sighed. "I know that probably sounds pathetic but I don't know how else to explain it. It's like a one way thing. I can't go back now. It'd be like trying to turn an oak tree back into an acorn. Do you understand?"

"Yeah." Virgil nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, I understand and it doesn't sound pathetic at all." Virgil smiled but the creases of empathy were already making an appearance on his forehead. "Scott, you've always walked a very fine like between being the brother that everybody could turn to and the eldest who forever took responsibility. You'll always be important to them and we'll always be grateful for you."

"Virgil…" Scott looked away, shaking his head in embarrassment. "It isn't about being grateful. I didn't do anything anyone else wouldn't have done. I just find it really hard to have played such an important part in their lives and them growing up. Now, it feels like they don't need me anymore." He paused, sniffing. "At the end of the day, I'm just their oldest brother."

"You're so much more than that and you know it." Virgil attempted to assure him. "They do need you Scott." He repeated. "It's just they need you to let them make their own decisions too. They're all adults now; I know sometimes that's hard for us to accept. Especially when Alan and Gordon act like they do, but we have to accept it."

"I can't." Scott sighed. "Deep down I know that and I know I should let them live their own lives, but I just can't Virgil. I have always been responsible for them. When something goes wrong, even now, it's me who has to answer to Dad. He trusts me to look out for them and I try, but I can't if they won't let me. I can't just shake that responsibility off."

"I know that." Virgil conceded. "Dad's always expected too much of you when it comes down to the others. Scott, you can't look out for them forever." Virgil paused. "There comes a time when they're old enough to take responsibility for themselves. You're not accountable for the way Alan or Gordon behaves, they are. They're not teenagers anymore; they're men." He sighed softly. "You're not always going to be there to look out for them."

Scott shrugged. "Maybe that's the problem." He looked mournfully across the room, in contemplation over whether to expand on that. When he looked back to Virgil's raised eyebrows, he realised he had no choice. "Maybe I haven't been there enough, I haven't seen that transformation. When I left for the Air Force, I left you guys behind too. Maybe if I'd stayed things would be different."

Virgil scoffed loudly; making his disagreement known. "Thing's would be different alright!" He exclaimed. "Maybe this, maybe that? What are you talking about? You love it in the Air Force." He stated clearly. He frowned harshly and waved a hand in exasperation for good measure. "Scott, if you hadn't joined up when you did. Where would you be now? In some dead end job that you wouldn't really be wanting to do. You'd have ended up begrudging the others for having a life. Either that or you'd be working for Dad…" Virgil paused for a few moments, imagining the possibilities. "Which would probably be a lot worse…" He smiled, but Scott didn't return the gesture. He waited for a few minutes, giving Scott the chance to comment if he so desired. Evidently he didn't, and Virgil carried on. "Scott, you gave up so much when we were younger. Joining the Air Force, you got your life back. No one resents you for doing that. We've all got our own lives now."

"I know." Scott's expression saddened. "It's just I wonder if … If maybe I deserted them." He said it dreamily, but Virgil could see this line of thinking wasn't a new experience to his brother.

"Scott!" Virgil cried, shaking his head and smirking incredulously. "How can you think that? You couldn't have done any more for all of us. And make no mistake about it, the notion that you deserted any of us is… well, it's damned well ludicrous!" Scott looked up uncertainly at his brother's unmovable expression. "Scott, you've got to do something about this guilt complex. This is a prime example of what you used to do when we were kids." Watching Scott's face cloud with irritation, he continued quickly. "You always find a way to make yourself responsible, even when it's not your fault."

"No I don't." Scott protested.

"Yes you do." Virgil replied flatly. "You're not responsible for them Scott! How many times? They're individuals and they have to make mistakes, that's how they learn. I know it's hard to stand back and let them, but it's what you've got to do. It's not your fault, but it's what we've got to do." He repeated.

"I just don't want them to make the same mistakes I did." Scott admitted sorrowfully.

"You think I do?" Virgil smirked. "I know how hard it is. Believe me, I do." Scott looked up sceptically and Virgil expanded with a sigh. "I feel exactly the same; of course I do. But I know, no matter what I say or do, I won't stop them. I'd rather be here for them when they make mistakes, than them be afraid to admit it, because they know I'm just going to say 'I told you so'."

Scott nodded. "You're right." He paused. "Of course, you're right." He sighed, raising a hand up to rub his face.

"It's a scary thought isn't it?" Virgil mused. "Makes me feel old."

"You're telling me." Scott scoffed. "Everything seemed so simple when we were kids." He shook his head again, reminiscent of their younger days. "At least I knew where I stood then. The older we get, the more blurred the boundaries seem."

"How do you mean?" Virgil frowned, confused by the remark.

Scott shrugged, trying to think of an appropriate example. "Take this weekend, things have changed. Maybe I didn't realise how much before because I haven't been there." He paused for a few moments, thinking more specifically. "After Alan came back from his interview yesterday, Dad was worried about him. He said he'd tried to talk to him in the car but Alan had shrugged him off." Scott paused again. "So I went to talk to him, but he shrugged me off too. It never even crossed my mind that he wouldn't want tell me; that he didn't trust me enough." Scott scoffed. "It was like someone had kicked me in the gut."

Scott looked up, silently assessing Virgil's reaction. He wondered if his brother would take this as a hint and utilise the opportunity to tell the truth. Virgil looked away sharply, feeling no such obligation.

"You're assuming the reason he didn't want to talk was because he didn't trust you." Virgil shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe he just didn't want to talk about it." He suggested. Knowing full well where Scott was intending this conversation was heading. He just wasn't aware of how much his brother knew.

"But he needs to talk about it." Scott pressed.

"Why?" Virgil frowned. "So you can tell him it'll be okay?" The words weren't spoken with half the venom they had been hours earlier. "Scott, I know you'd do anything to change the fact that it was me and him in that car, and not you. Be honest, you feel as though you should be doing something, don't you? That's why you're acting like this. It isn't Alan needing to talk; it's about you needing to listen. To feel as if you've done something." Virgil smiled sympathetically. "I know you Scott."

The older man shrugged. "Maybe." He raised his eyebrows, thinking for a while. "I thought I was helping." He raised his eyebrows mutinously. "But I've just been making things worse, haven't I?"

"You meant well, Scott." Virgil frowned when his older brother laughed at the comment.

"The road to hell's paved with good intentions Virg." He sobered. "You were right; I'm driving them away."

"They understand it's hard for you." Virgil winced at the words. He had no idea how many times he'd said that over the last few hours. It was becoming lame and he knew it. He wished with all his heart he could take back what he said, but the unfortunate reality was that he couldn't. More to the point, he couldn't deny the truth in it.

"This is the last thing I wanted to happen." Scott groaned as he dropped as his head to his hands. He was genuinely upset and at a loss as to what else to say. "I'm supposed to be their big brother."

Virgil smiled askew at the despair in his brother's tone. "And you do a fantastic job. You said yourself; you're more like a surrogate father to Al and Gordy." Virgil knew well enough that the sentiment of necessity Scott craved, stemmed deep down from his own insecurities. Insecurities that had developed with the disproportionate sense of responsibility that had been thrust on Scott at such a young age. "Scott y'know, what I said about you making this weekend all about you. I didn't mean it."

"But I have." Scott stated, mulishly. "I have made it all about me. What hurt the most was that you were shutting me out." He shook his head, this time in desperation. "Not that you'd been through this …" He waved a hand, unsure how exactly to describe the weekend they'd endured. Secretly, he didn't think there were adequate words. "And it should have been. I was being selfish." He concluded.

Virgil sighed. "I know it must have hurt, that I didn't…"

"Come running to me for a shoulder to cry on?" Scott couldn't help but repeat Virgil's own words.

The younger man cringed. "I wasn't going to say that, but yeah, that I didn't talk to you. This has affected all of us, not just me and Al." Virgil told him. He frowned at his brother's despondency. "Scott, you were right in what you said. I don't normally deal with things like this and maybe a part of me was lashing out. I didn't intentionally hurt you but… I could have found a more tactful way of saying some of the things I did."

Scott laughed. "This makes a change; I'm usually the one with no tact." He smiled.

"I know this isn't going to change how you feel about not being the one in that car. Or how you feel about needing to be in control but…" Virgil paused. Sudden outbursts of emotion weren't something he was prone to. "Y'know, we appreciate everything you do for us Scott, all of us. The kids worship you, John included."

Scott noted the way Virgil had excluded himself. "What about you? Are you still mad with me after all this?"

Virgil smiled warmly. "I'm not mad with you." He sighed, unsure how to articulate what he wanted to say. "I respect you and I value you." He looked away. Knowing Scott wasn't entirely comfortable with this subject just increased his own feeling of unease.

Scott smiled awry. "Thanks Virg." He muttered softly.

For a few seconds a silence descended on them. Virgil found himself watching Scott, who remained deep in thought.

Virgil coughed, clearing his throat as well as the atmosphere. "So…" He smirked. "What did you tell Charlie?"

"Hmm?" Scott frowned. Having been jolted from his thoughts, he struggled to comprehend what Virgil was talking about. "What do you mean, you heard what I said?"

"Come on Scott!" Virgil shook his head, perturbed with his brother. "You practically dragged him out the room. It was obvious you didn't want Dad or me to hear it."

Scott refused to meet his brother's gaze and opted for shaking his head instead. "I was just trying to get him to take Dad for a drink, that's all." He met Virgil's suspicious gaze briefly, before swallowing and looking away. "He's been real stressed just lately; I thought he could do with a break."

Virgil watched the way his eyes continuously flickered down and how frequently he blinked. Sure signs he was lying. "You never can lie to me Scott." Virgil said categorically. He waited for Scott to look at him, before continuing sincerely. "It's my lungs that aren't working properly, not my brain."

"I was worried." Scott admitted. "I just wanted to check that you were really okay."

"Did you tell him… about… about the sketchbook? About what I did…" He trailed off, struggling to vocalise the question. He looked about the room uncomfortably. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Scott hesitate before nodding slowly. "And what…" He trailed off once more with a sigh. "What did he say?" He took the bull by the horns and just asked.

Scott matched his heavy sigh, looking down to his hands as he spoke. "That you'd been through hell and that it was to be expected." He could feel Virgil's eyes on him and resisted the temptation to glance up at his brother. "I've never seen you so angry." He paused, steeling himself to look Virgil in the eye. "You really scared me." He admitted cautiously. The words were reaffirmed by the emotions that played inside him, so clearly for Virgil to read.

Virgil attempted to lighten the dark atmosphere. "I scared you? I scared me!" He exclaimed with a sad smile. "I don't know what came over me, I just… I just lost it."

"Guess we're both guilty of that then." Scott mused.

"Yeah." Virgil smiled. "Guess so."

"Virgil," Scott began. "You don't have to do this on your own…"

"Scott please," Virgil spoke over him, indicating for him not to continue. He paused for a few minutes, before changing the subject. "I know I scared you. I could see it your eyes then, just like I can now and I'm sorry. But you should have spoken to me before you went to an outsider. Charlie's probably going to tell Dad now and then …"

"No." Scott shook his head. "I asked Charlie's medical opinion. I trust him, he won't say anything to Dad, believe me."

"Scott, he and Dad go back years!" Virgil shook his head too, clearly not believing Scott. "He's bound to say something."

"No he won't." Scott repeated. "You're being ridiculous, what I said to Charlie was confidential." He sighed, running a hand over his face. "And you made it perfectly clear you didn't want to talk about it! What did you expect me to do? Would you rather I'd spoken to Father?" Scott sat back with an irritated sigh.

"I don't want to argue." Virgil replied softly, in response to his brother's antagonistic tone.

Scott sighed again, shaking his head. "Me neither, I'm sorry." A few seconds passed before he went on. "I'm just concerned that ..."

"I'm going crazy?" Virgil asked before he could finish the sentence.

"No." Scott denied immediately, shaking his head to affirm the fact.

"Good, because I'm not." Virgil replied succinctly.

Scott heaved in a heavy sigh, blowing the air out slowly. "Do you have any idea how worried I am about you?"

The desperation his tone of voice told of, caused Virgil to glance up at him. He thought about that comment long and hard before replying. Of course he knew Scott was worried about him, and of course he knew how much. The words themselves would have been difficult for his older brother to admit to. That was evidence enough as to the extent of Scott's concern.

"Well don't be. You're acting as if I'm having some kind of breakdown or something. I told you, I'm fine."

"Virgil, I know you. Almost as well as you know me." Scott sighed again. "You're not fine." He ran a hand through this hair thoughtfully. "You don't explode like that, not without good reason."

Virgil glared at him. "Don't tell me what I do or don't do. If I want to scream and shout, and rip a thousand damn sketchpads to pieces, I will." He swallowed, making a new effort to calm down. "Look Scott, I lost control, okay? You said yourself; we're both guilty of that." He hoped those words would be the end of the matter.

Scott agreed wholeheartedly; they were definitely both guilty of that. However, the image of Virgil frantically ripping the hardback book to pieces still lingered in his mind. He didn't really want to leave it there.

"It's just…" Scott hesitated. He wished he could turn back the clock and do things differently. Prevent this awkward conversation ever being necessary. "You've always been the strong one." Virgil looked as if he were about to disagree, but Scott didn't give him the chance. "It's true. Without you, I wouldn't have made it this far. Virgil, you're always so … together. To see you lose it like that… Well, I guess it shook me up too." He met his brother's gaze. "In all our lives, I've never, ever seen you like that before."

Scott found himself becoming irritated by Virgil's response of a barked laugh. "I've never seen me like that either!" The younger man smiled, but it soon dropped when he realised Scott was far from amused. "I'm sorry." He added sincerely. "I'm sorry that I frightened you." Scott opened his mouth to rebuke that comment but then stopped himself; it was true. "It all got to me."

"What all got to you?" Scott asked quickly. Virgil looked up at him to see the fire of inquisition still burning brightly in his eyes. Telling him that he would be lucky to escape this conversation without Scott finding out the truth.

Virgil shrugged, looking away. "Y'know, this weekend. Everything." Scott couldn't hide the disappointment. He had hoped Virgil would take this second chance to tell him the truth but it was becoming increasingly obvious that his brother had no inclination to reveal all. Just like Alan had yesterday, he was about to push Scott away. "I promise you Scott, the first time I feel the slightest inkling to throw myself of that balcony; you'll be the first to know."

"That's not funny." Scott chastised. "Is it any wonder I worry, when you come out with comments like that?"

"Sorry." Virgil repeated. "I'm dealing with this my own way Scott." He paused, to take in a deep breath and blow it out slowly. "You don't understand, you can't, so trust me; it's for the best."

Scott saw his opportunity and took it with both hands. "No, I don't understand, but I could. If you'd just talk to me Virgil." Scott waited for his younger brother to face him again. "Tell me." His tone of voice matched the pleading and desperation in his eyes. For a second, as he looked deep into those coffee coloured pools of revelation, he thought he'd finally gotten through to his brother. He thought Virgil was about to reveal all, just as he had with Alan. And just as he had with been with Alan, he was sadly mistaken.

"I can't." Virgil mumbled. "Trust me Scott, it's better this way. If I could, I would but …" He closed his eyes, his tongue running over his bottom lip. "Please try and accept that I have to deal with this on my own." He mused as to why Scott couldn't just leave it and save himself the very pain Virgil was trying to protect him from. Little did he know the pain his older brother was already experiencing.

"No, you don't." Scott shook his head, grasping at what was left of the possibility of a breakthrough.

"Yes, I do." Virgil snapped. His tone adamant and unyielding. "I've accepted that and now you have to as well, just like you have to accept that we're all adults now."

Somewhat saddened at Virgil's lack of willingness to confide in him, Scott nodded mutely. Disheartened, he forced himself to recall John's words about his brother's privacy, before he revealed that he already knew the truth. "Okay." He gritted out. "It doesn't mean I'm not going to worry though …" Scott hesitated. He tried not to let his despair show and continued to speak through gritted teeth. "About both of you. I can't help it, you're my brothers." He paused again, fighting to control his own emotions. Virgil's rejection was twisting the knife Alan's comments had forced into his gut. "I don't mean to be so pushy or controlling. It's only because I care."

"Oh Scott." Virgil sighed. He wrongly assumed the raw and emotional display before him was a direct result of the home truths he'd told his brother. "We know you care, but you can't control them. It's harder for you because of the responsibility you had when we were kids, I know that. And I know, deep down, you're afraid that you can't control what you're going to lose as things change. Nevertheless burying your head in the sand and ignoring it's happening, isn't the answer. I understand you're under a lot more pressure than any of the rest of us…" He stopped when Scott laughed suddenly. "What?"

Scott grinned, another deflection for the hurt inside. "Gordon said exactly the same thing." Virgil frowned and he explained further. "He was mad with me after the way I spoke to him the night of the crash. I went to apologise."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "You apologised?" He asked incredulously.

"Don't sound so surprised." Scott told him, exasperatedly. "I do apologise when I'm wrong." He paused for a few seconds, before a grin crept across his lips. "I'm just not wrong very often. That's not the point, I went to talk to him and I expected him to blow up at me. But he was so mature about it, he said he understood."

"They do understand. Don't forget both Gordon and John are big brothers too. And then there's me; you're not the only big brother in this family."

Scott smirked morosely. "Yeah well, it's a good job it's not just me. Huh? You're doing a better job than I am at the minute."

"Don't say that." Virgil frowned. "No one could have asked for a better brother than you."

Scott laughed bitterly. "I appreciate the sentiment Virg but just lately, I haven't been a very good brother at all."

Virgil shook his head. "Yes you have. Scott the way you've gone about it, might not have been ideal but you're right. Both Al and me, we need to deal with this. It's about time we stopped running away from it. Seems every time I try, I just succeed in hurting myself."

"I thought you'd given up after last time, not enough energy if I remember correctly." Scott watched Virgil carefully, unsure how his brother would respond to the cryptic but gentle persuasion.

"Well I should have done." Virgil responded. "But sometimes, knowing what you've got to do and actually doing it, don't follow." He breathed in shakily, his lungs expanding fully but not without a twinge of pain. "And even if it does, it doesn't mean it's easy."

"Hell Virgil, that's what I'm here for; to help." Scott said gently.

"I know." Virgil conceded. "I'm sorry for the way things have been this weekend."

"Me too." Scott bowed his head. "Part of my wishes the whole thing had never happened. And then another part me says I needed it." He looked up to Virgil's puzzled expression before he continued. "I needed to hear what you said, before I made a complete hash of my relationships with my younger brothers. Al, Gordy and John; they've all tried to tell me over this weekend in their own ways, but I've just been too darned ignorant to notice."

"What do you mean?"

"John told me not to push you too hard. He said I should respect your privacy and let you deal with it how you wanted to. But I still came up here and pushed you into a conversation you weren't ready for." Scott sighed once more. He lifted a hand to his face, rubbing at his tired, sore eyes.

"Who says I'm not ready for it?" Virgil's eyes met his in an act of defiance. "Maybe I need pushing sometimes."

"There's a difference between pushing and prying though." Scott pointed out, skirting around the issue of the sketchbook.

Virgil knew where the conversation was heading. "Yeah well prying's going too far."

"Sorry," Scott bowed his head.

"Stop apologising." Virgil smiled. "We're both guilty of overstepping the mark, forget it." Scott nodded.

"It's not just John is it?" Virgil asked after a short pause, astute as ever.

"No." Scott admitted. "Though I never realised how perceptive he was. There's Gordon, he's really grown up. Y'know, the way he spoke to me, I could have easily taken a lecture from him."

Virgil smirked suddenly. "Yeah, I think being responsible for his own men has really changed his attitude." He put forward.

"I think you're right." Scott agreed sombrely. "And then there's Al." Scott let out a long, heavy sigh. "I thought I knew him but I don't know anything. I never knew what he really thought, how he really felt… Y'know what makes it worse?" He didn't wait for any sort of answer. "I should've known. The signs were all there; John telling me not push it, Gordy trying to take care of Al. I can't believe I've been so stupid. Even when I heard what Alan said in the car, about me thinking he was arrogant, it still didn't click." He shook his head.

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Virgil sighed. "Al was under a lot of pressure in the car, he didn't mean…" Virgil's face suddenly dropped as he trailed off. He turned wide, horror stricken eyes on his serious older brother.

"What?" Scott frowned at his brother's anxious expression and the way Virgil's eyes reddened.

"You…" Virgil sighed a disbelieving laugh. "How do you know what he said in the car?" His gaze met Scott's and their eyes fixed. Virgil watched as Scott desperately attempted to look away but found himself unable to. The sudden panic in his eyes betrayed him. Virgil was sure the confusion and growing anger he felt was also becoming visible. "You weren't… you weren't there. Sam was the only one on the line, so how the hell do you know?"


	19. Sincerity & Dorothy Complex

Author's Note: Many thanks for the reviews from the last chapter. Every word is, as always, much appreciated. Please, do continue to let me know your thoughts on these chapters. It's most helpful and very important to me if I wish to improve, that I know how my writing is impacting on the reader. Your thoughts and opinions are incredibly important, so do drop me a review and let me know. Thank you.

Chapter Nineteen; Sincerity and Dorothy Complex

The tension that followed, words could not describe.

It took Scott mere seconds to realise his mistake and he closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, Virgil's eyes cut into him like razor blades. He felt himself squirming under his brother's inquisition, feeling uncomfortable and guilty. Their eyes locked together and despite Scott's several attempts to look away, none were fruitful.

"I .. err…" He stumbled, unable to avoid Virgil's angry yet suspicious glare. "Sam." Scott said quickly, far too quickly, as he bit his lips together in an effort to stop them trembling. Internally, he was cursing himself. This was one of the very reasons he so rarely let his guard down. If he could have, he would have kicked himself. "Sam," He repeated, nodding and frantically trying to avoid the panic he felt from surfacing. "Yeah," He convinced himself, as much as Virgil. "Sam told me."

Virgil's expression didn't change. Nor did his penetrative gaze or the contempt in his eyes. Eyes that had turned cold and hard; frozen by the anger that cursed through him. The silence and Virgil's lack of a response, prompted Scott to expand further. "He err… he mentioned it earlier." The older man found himself nodding again, in an effort to convince Virgil.

Virgil's gaze continued to infiltrate his brother's soul. Scott shrivelled internally; if only he could take those words back, if only he could pretend he hadn't said them, if only he hadn't exposed himself to such a volatile situation. He felt like sighing to release the tension, but refrained. 'If only's were of no use to him now.

Virgil's silence spurred him on, once more.

"I…" Scott was saved going on any further as a shrill ring echoed around the room; contrasting the accusing silence a little too effectively. He fumbled for the 'phone as the awkward atmosphere between them only intensified. Eventually he prized it from his pocket and looked at the caller identification. "It's John." He said to himself, his face a picture of relief. "I'd better take it."

Before he could answer the call, Virgil reached out to him. He took a firm grasp of Scott's wrist, causing the older man's skin to pale; he effectively prevented his brother from answering the call. Scott froze. The tension in the air was thick and barring the ringing 'phone, silence prevailed. He slowly raised his eyes to his brother's. He couldn't help but swallow at the resentment Virgil's eyes held.

Scott attempted to pull his wrist free but Virgil's grip just tightened. Realistically, he could have freed himself but for fear of hurting Virgil, he didn't. "This could be important." He urged. Virgil just tightened his hold further. Scott once more, tried to pull his wrist free of his brother's grasp. "Let go Virgil," He commanded firmly, but Virgil's eyes told him that he wasn't likely to obey. "You're hurting me." Scott winced as he tugged at the restriction with his own free hand. "Virgil please, this could be important." Scott repeated. Beginning to sound suspiciously like he was pleading with his brother, he bit his tongue.

It was fast becoming evident that, pleas or no pleas, Virgil wasn't listening to him.

His own thoughts ran far too deep to even contemplate what Scott was saying. In that moment, he felt like he'd been kicked in the gut.

It was obvious Scott knew. But how did he know? And what else did he know?

Questions swam through Virgil's mind, each leading on to the next. He desperately wanted answers, yet none were forthcoming and he wasn't entirely sure he was ready to hear it anyway. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he reached his other hand into Scott's palm, retrieving the small communications device.

Infuriatingly, the 'phone continued to ring obliviously. The merry tune remained a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere between them. Virgil took a moment, glancing down to confirm the caller was indeed John, before cancelling the call and throwing the 'phone across the room in one swift, belligerent movement. He turned on his brother. "To hell with that, this is important!" He breathed, angrily.

Scott watched the 'phone bounce on Sam's mattress and come to a stop. He found himself feeling relieved it hadn't been damaged through the angry outburst. However, as his vision turned back to Virgil, he realised his 'phone was the last thing he should be worrying about.

"Don't lie to me Scott." Virgil rumbled menacingly; the growl came low and sinister; the anger unmistakable. His voice trembled, anger and fear of just what Scott knew causing him to shudder. He barely managed to control it. "I'm not stupid, so don't insult my intelligence. I want the truth."

Knowing that to look anywhere else would be to confirm to his brother that he was lying, Scott was forced to face him. However, he was sure that Virgil must know. Of all the people he knew, Virgil was by far the closest to him and had the most experience in reading his actions. "I told you already…" Scott attempted to reaffirm.

"No! You lied." Virgil snarled, his eyes burning brightly at the possibilities.

"No, you lied to me Virgil!" Scott snapped. He swallowed. "You told me you passed out."

Virgil's nostrils flared and his lips began to tremble as he bit down on them hard. Blinking back the moisture that was suddenly making its way, involuntarily, to his eyes.

"I did." The reply came out in a higher pitch then he'd intended and he swallowed back some of the foreboding that seemed to have accumulated in his throat. "Now, tell me the truth; how do you know what Alan said in the car?"

"I told you." Scott stuck by his story. Ironically, he thought, this was the most likely tactic to avoid any confrontation. "Sam told me." He replied adamantly.

"That's crap!" Virgil exclaimed harshly. He screwed his face up and waved his hand angrily. "You know it and I know it!" He clenched his teeth together. "Do you really think I'm that stupid!" He opened his mouth to continue, taking in a deep breath. The motion caused a sharp, shooting pain in his chest and he wavered. He grimaced as he battled, once more, to overcome the sudden onset of pain.

Scott watched Virgil as he reached a hand to the agony that had erupted in his chest, with alarm. "Virgil, please! You've got to try and stay calm."

"I am calm." Virgil replied. Struggling to breathe. Finally, he managed to control himself enough to even his breathing out. "How do you know?" He asked again. "I'm not asking for world peace Scott, I just want the truth." The anger had almost faded from his voice but the intensity of the emotion it carried hadn't wavered in the least.

"Virgil…"

"Just tell me." Virgil spoke over him. He swallowed, shaking his head silently before he continued. "Please, just tell me." He appealed to his brother.

"Okay," Scott sighed. He let a few expectant moments tick by before taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I know." He confessed softly. "I know what Alan said because I've seen the video footage." He settled back for some kind of reaction. He was surprised when Virgil only looked back at him blankly. Eventually the younger man shook his head and as a result Scott frowned, perplexed.

"No." Virgil seemed to deny the fact. In his mind, it just wasn't possible. He shook his head, frowning at the very prospect. The fear in the pit of his stomach circled more frequently now, with little mercy. "What footage?" He asked suspiciously, his tone as level as he could force it to be. He found his throat suddenly tight and the sinking feeling in his gut wasn't aiding him, in keeping up this pretence of ignorance. A deep frown cemented into his expression as he spoke.

"From the camera recordings. I've seen it, all of it." Scott said slowly. Noting Virgil's forced yet vacant expression and trying to jog his memory. He watching his brother carefully for any sign that he was bluffing. Was it possible he didn't know the cameras had carried on recording? Was it possible, as Sam had said, that he really didn't remember?

Eventually, the younger man turned to look out onto the balcony as a breeze blew in, his vision lingering on the late afternoon sun. Anything but facing Scott and ruining all possibility of hiding. Denial, it seemed, was a good hiding place. When it was clear no ascent of recognition was forthcoming Scott carried on. "The camera's from Alan's car." Another pause followed. "Virgil?" He tried, but failed, to get his brothers attention. "Virgil, are you listening to me?"

Virgil froze at the words, slowly turning to face his older brother with what Scott could only describe as panic in his eyes. The same panic Scott himself had felt when he realised what he'd said just minutes earlier.

"Cameras?" Virgil asked slowly before he spoke again, his bottom lip still trembling. He shook his head, indicating he didn't know what Scott was talking about. However, this charade of unawareness was becoming more and more difficult to keep up, and his eyes told a different story.

"You know." Scott told him, reading Virgil's actions precisely. "I know you know." He moved up the bed a little, closer to his brother. He could feel Virgil shaking, whether it was fear or anger or apprehension, he wasn't sure. Maybe even a mixture of all of them, it was certainly understandable.

Virgil swallowed. The action seemed so loud against the trepidation filled hush. He shook his head, unable to speak for fear of acceptance.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about." Scott frowned. He was surprised Virgil thought he would succeed in deceiving him, when they both knew it was a feat neither of them were capable of.

"Don't make this any harder Virgil." He watched closely as Virgil shook his head in denial. He met his older brother's concerned gaze to confirm Scott was telling the truth before tearing his vision away. He ceased shaking his head, eyes wide and glistening. Staring mutely ahead, Virgil struggled to tug his trembling lips together. "It's okay." Scott assured him, seeing his struggle for composure. Virgil frowned at his tone of voice, pitying and sympathetic; it made him feel ill. "I know."

Virgil swallowed, slowly turning to face his brother defiantly. Regardless of his teary, red eyes or the pure despair streaked across his features.

"What do you know?" His eyes held only dread at his brother's response and his voice trembled in anticipation of the implications of his answer.

"Everything." Scott replied calmly. "You must know the cameras recorded the whole thing. Didn't they ask you about it, in your interview?"

Virgil nodded faintly. It was almost impossible to distinguish from the younger mans shaking. He blinked furiously and licked his, suddenly dry, lips.

Glazed eyes suddenly became focused as Virgil turned to face his brother. "How did…" He swallowed again. "How?"

Scott sighed. "I didn't set out to see it. I didn't even know Alan had cameras on his car, until Sam told me…"

"So what? You couldn't bear the not knowing, and you decided to find out for yourself?" Virgil's voice regained the dangerous quality it had earlier been laced with. Angry that Scott had, in his eyes, gone looking for answers in places he shouldn't.

"No," Scott immediately denied, shaking his head. "It wasn't like that."

"Tell me something, did it hurt?" Virgil went on, ignoring Scott had even spoken. "Did it?" He asked again, when Scott failed to answer. Virgil took controlled breaths, frowning hard; he rubbed at his eyes furiously, causing them to become redder. He swallowed back the abundance of moisture in his mouth despite his dry lips, and asked again. "Did it hurt you, to watch that recording?"

Scott frowned sadly, a little surprised and confused by the conversation. "Of course it hurt…" He found himself blinking to compensate for the memories that returned. Deep down he knew it had hurt for the wrong reasons, but Virgil didn't give him time to go any further.

"Good."

Scott's head snapped up at the snide, angry comment. His eyes widened as he stared at his brother incredulously. He frowned angrily, opening his mouth to reply but words failed him.

"You couldn't just leave it, could you?" Virgil sniffed. "This is exactly the situation I was trying to avoid. Well, I'm glad it hurts, I hope it hurts you as much as it hurts me, and I hope you're pleased with yourself." He stifled a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Why?" He breathed. "Why couldn't you live with not knowing, just this once?"

"It wasn't like that." Scott repeated. "I swear to you, it was an accident. I didn't even know what was on the discs until…" He stopped his mouth running away with itself. "Do you think I wanted to see that?"

"No," Virgil replied. "But I think you couldn't help yourself." He laughed again, the bitterness almost unheard of in the second heir to the Tracy throne. "So, that's why you were so understanding. It has nothing to do with you finally comprehending that we're old enough to look out for ourselves has it? You already knew, that's why you didn't push me into talking anymore." He paused to sniff, screwing his face up. "Did you mean any of it? What you just said, or was it all just lies?"

"Of course I did!" Scott sighed heartily. "I meant every word I said, Virgil."

"How could you sit there and patronise me like that?" Virgil asked incredulously; appalled by the realisation.

"I didn't mean to patronise you. I …" Scott made several attempts to expand on that before he actually found a starting point. "I wanted to give you an opportunity to tell me the truth. I didn't want to believe that you didn't trust me enough to lean on me when you needed someone."

"It's not about trust." Virgil frowned.

"So what was it about?" Scott matched his brother's expression. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

Virgil hesitated. He knew a lot hinged on his response to that question, but he had to be honest. He blinked, looking up to his brother and meeting Scott's expectant yet anxious gaze.

"No." He muttered quietly.

"Why not?" Scott frowned, feeling more than a little hurt from the revelation. He could feel his eyes reddening from the stinging confession.

Virgil shrugged. "I knew you felt bad already because there was nothing you could do. You felt helpless and I know how much you hated that." He swallowed. "You were worried about Al, the last thing you needed was me adding to that worry."

Scott bit his lips together. It broke his heart to think Virgil had concealed this to save him the pain of knowing. That he had forsaken all and any comfort they could have offered, for the sake of the pain he knew Scott would feel at such a revelation.

"Besides," Virgil carried on. "I couldn't." He looked to his hands, sniffing again. "I tried, but I just couldn't." He paused. "The night you woke up and I was sat in that chair." He waved a hand, roughly in the direction of the padded armchair. "I wanted to tell you everything. So much, but I just… I couldn't. I was willing myself to do it, but the words…" He sighed. "It wasn't because I don't trust you, I do. It was because I couldn't. I couldn't do that to you, and I couldn't bring myself to do it to me either." He frowned. "I did what I thought was best, for all of us."

Deeply saddened by those words, Scott didn't reply at first and a pensive silence enveloped them. Scott cleared his throat. "Does Dad know?"

"Alan can never know!" Virgil fired out quickly. "If ever you want to protect him from anything, now's a good time to do it. If he ever found out…"

"Okay, okay." Scott tried to acquiesce to Virgil's determination, raising his hands in surrender. "Alan'll never find out. Not from me." He vowed sincerely. "I promise."

Virgil sniffed, letting a sigh out. He sat back, suddenly deflated. "Good." He swallowed back some of the anguish and unease that had risen back up to his throat, pushing it back to circle in his stomach once more.

"What about Dad?" Scott repeated.

"No." Virgil shook his head. "And I don't want him to find out. I don't want anyone to find out. Ever." He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the pillows that propped him up. "Which is why I need you to…" He trailed off, not opening his eyes. "Please tell me you're the only one who saw that recording." He said suddenly with renewed effort. There was a definite element of pleading to his tone that Scott was unused to.

Scott hesitated. Lying seemed the kindest option, yet lies were what had got them this far. He was torn between appeasing his brother's dread and telling the truth. Until Virgil opened his eyes again. As soon as he caught sight of the desolation contained in the soft depths, silently begging him to agree, he knew Virgil was far too fragile to handle the truth. Not wanting to add to the deep distress his brother was already experiencing, lying seemed his only option. So, convincing himself that he was doing it for Virgil, he nodded.

"Yeah, it was just me." He swallowed. Crossing his fingers subconsciously, out of sight.

"Thank God." Virgil sighed, taking in a deep breath and letting it blow out slowly. "I couldn't handle it if anyone else…" He trailed off. "Alan'd be devastated if he ever found out."

Scott nodded. "He's not going to. I'll make sure of that." He assured Virgil, already formulating plans to get his hands on those discs and destroy them. Musing on how he'd take great pleasure from destroying them in a suitable manner, considering just what they stood for; what they contained. In the short silence that followed, a thought struck him. "Didn't you think Alan'd watch the recordings at the first possible moment?"

Virgil shook his head. "I didn't think Sam would start analysing the data until we got back." He frowned. Still taking in the fact that Scott knew, he wasn't really thinking about what he was saying. In some way it was a weight off his shoulders that finally, he had someone to talk to. However, in other ways, he feared Scott wouldn't be able to stop himself from suffocating him with his oppressive concern. "Especially with the situation with Alan not wanting to…" He stopped, suddenly looking up to Scott.

"Alan not wanting to what?" Scott frowned, as Virgil closed his eyes regretfully. "Come on Virg, lying to each other's what's got us here in the first place."

"This goes no further."

"Of course not." Scott nodded. "Go on." He frowned suspiciously. Deep down, he feared, he knew what was coming.

"Alan wants to quit racing." Virgil told him with a mournful sigh.

Scott closed his eyes, and leant back. Exhaling deeply. "I knew you were going to say that."

Virgil frowned, surprised at the reply. "Has he said something to you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No." Scott shook his head, before scoffing a bitter laugh. "No, I just had a feeling it was coming. He didn't say a thing. Can't think why, huh?" He rolled his eyes, rethinking the things Virgil had said to him, a mere matter of minutes earlier.

"Scott…" Virgil's frown deepened. "He only told us this morning."

"Us?"

Virgil sighed. "Sam and I." He winced internally, knowing the fact that Alan had confided in Sam would only upset Scott further. Sure enough, the predicted response came.

"Sam? Sam knows?" Scott reached a hand up to knead his eyes roughly. "He'd rather tell Sam than me."

"It's not about that." Virgil told him. "Sam and I had more to do with the car than you ever did."

"You're right." Scott sighed again, running a hand over his hair and leaving a mass of dark waves in his wake. "I'm sorry, I'm being selfish. Thinking of me again, how I feel." He was reminded of how selfish he'd been when he'd watched the feedback too. Hurt that he didn't know, not hurt at what Virgil had been forced to experience. He stopped to study his brother, noticing how deep in thought Virgil seemed. "You think he's got a point, don't you?" He asked, intuitive as always when dealing with this particular brother.

Virgil shrugged. "Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, I think he does. I'm not saying he should give up, I don't think he should. I'm glad we managed to hold him off making a decision until after Wednesday." He paused, obviously wanting to say more but seemingly unwilling to vocalise his thoughts.

"But…" Scott prompted.

"But, I can see his point." Virgil confessed. "It's not going to be easy for him going back out on the track, after all this." He sighed sadly. "I know the thought of getting back in a racing car petrifies me, after what happened."

Scott nodded, though he knew he couldn't really understand what his brother was saying. "What did happen?" He asked softly. As Virgil's head snapped up to look at him with a warning glare. "What really happened out there Virgil?" Scott persisted, repeating his question.

"Please, Scott." Virgil breathed, looking down to his hands and away from his brother. "You've seen the camera footage and you've seen the sketches. You don't need me to tell you, so please don't ask me to go through it again."

Scott nodded, trying again to understand. With a gentle sigh, he lowered his gaze. Truly feeling for his brother. "I know what it's like, you know." He began. Treading softly and cautiously around his brothers volatile state.

"No." Virgil disagreed as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. "No you don't." His voice remained low and Scott missed the perilous quality to it. Too intent on empathising with him to hear that 'edge' Virgil had spoken with at the hospital.

"I've seen people die Virgil. I know what it's like, and I know how it feels." Scott continued on, oblivious.

"No you don't!" Virgil spat out angrily causing Scott to almost physically withdraw from his brother, such was the sudden venom in Virgil's tone. "You don't know how it feels and you damned well don't know what its like." Virgil paused, his anger making him breathless and he found himself attempting to breathe deeply again. There were a few minutes of pregnant silence as Scott watched his brother uneasily and Virgil silently fumed at the comparison Scott was making. He struggled to control himself. "You fire your fancy missiles and then sit back however many thousand feet in the air." He waved a hand. "You see puffs of smoke and a few flames, you don't see death." Scott hung his head slightly, sitting back and away from Virgil's heated response. "Not like that."

Virgil breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling quickly to compensate for the angry explosion. For the first few seconds Scott didn't respond either. The outburst took him by surprise but in all honesty, every word was true. Eventually Scott reached forward to take Virgil's arm, intent to rub it soothingly. Hoping the contact would calm Virgil's distressed response. "I'm so sorry Virgil…"

He was cut off from saying any more. "Don't." Virgil snapped, speaking hastily and loudly. "I don't want your pity." He pulled his arm away from Scott's touch sharply, in one aggressive motion. Yet he didn't look up to his brother, his hostile eyes preferring to face the bed instead. "Save your insipid platitude's for someone who deserves it Scott." He said monotonously. "I don't want to hear it."

"Is that what you think?" Scott frowned, a little surprised by the words. Then with a sudden but chilling clarity, he understood. "It's not just that you couldn't tell me is it? You think you don't deserve to be comforted." The theory alarmed Scott greatly, but it unfortunately made a lot of sense. "That's why you've been rejecting my help, alienating yourself. It's not just that I've been acting like an idiot, is it?" No reply came, but somehow Scott knew he was right. He waited for a few moments, giving Virgil the time he needed to answer. Eventually, a silence threatened them that Scott had no intention of falling into.

"Virgil?" He repeated, trying to get his brothers attention. The younger man avoided his older brother's gaze, looking to his hands and about the room. Anywhere but at Scot directly. One look would be all it took to confirm Scott's words. Just one fleeting glance. "Virgil, look at me." Scott petitioned his brother in a somewhat firm tone, yet it smacked primarily of a plea. Still the younger man looked away. It was only when Scott reached out to his arm and grasped it firmly; repeating the command much firmer, "Look at me." That Virgil reluctantly complied, shrugging the touch off forcefully. Scott searched the deep brown pools shaking his head in disbelief at what Virgil was telling him without speaking a word. "Is that what you think?" He muttered. Finding himself temporarily lost in the depth of the dull, red, despair ridden eyes that were usually so clear, true and comforting.

Virgil knew what he was doing, but took a deep breath and let him search. He knew he had no choice now. "I watched…" He swallowed, his voice trembling. "I watched a man die Scott. Do you think I deserve your security, your compassion or your sympathy?" It was clearly a rhetoric question. "I don't." Virgil shook his head wildly. "I don't because I sat there and I watched him. I watched him die." Virgil paused, his stomach knotting and threatening to rise to the back of his throat. His chest shuddered with the effort it was taking him not to breakdown. "He was screaming for help. A grown man Scott, sobbing, begging me to do something, but I didn't." Virgil paused, to regain some control.

Scott was about to jump in and disagree with that last statement when he thought better of it and just let his brother continue.

"He was screaming like I've never heard anyone scream before. I can still hear it, even now." Virgil closed his eyes and rested his head back against the pillows behind him as if to prove the point. Part of him wanted the break, the other part wanted to hide his eyes from Scott. The knowledge that his eyes were betraying everything he'd tried to keep to himself, was crushing. Several times Scott felt the need to speak, but somehow there was no reply to give and he knew there was more to come yet.

"Y'know, I actually wanted him to just shut up." Virgil smirked sadly, as he shook his head. Clearly but cruelly continuing to punish himself. He bit his lips together and fought a desperate battle against the readiness his eyes had to let the moisture accrued there fall. "I looked up and I could see him through the flames." He paused to take in a deep breath, determined to retain some dignity. "And I just sat there and watched." He swallowed, finally turning tortured and soul destroying eyes on his only older brother. "Now, you look me in the eye and tell me I deserve your empathy."

Scott made a point of meeting Virgil's steely glare, no matter how much it turned his stomach to see such anger and revulsion in his brother. "Of course you deserve it." Virgil looked away, discounting Scott's words with a shake of his head. "Yes." Scott countered, without second thought. "Virgil, what you just said, that's not true." He told him firmly but compassionately. "You know that's not true. I've seen the footage remember? You did everything you could to get to him, you tried to help him."

Virgil scoffed, shaking his head once more. "It wasn't enough though was it?" He smirked despondently.

"You tried your best. You were trapped too!" Scott leant forward, but Virgil failed to meet his gaze. "Virgil, you couldn't do anything for him," Scott reached out a hand to his brother's face, attempting to steer him so as he couldn't avoid his gaze anymore. However, Virgil pulled away from him harshly and looked up irately. "You did everything you could." Scott said calmly, having achieved his objective despite the visual daggers Virgil was throwing his way.

"I lied to him!" Virgil yelled leaning into where Scott looked up to him. The darker haired man remained relatively composed; a complete contrast of the unrestrained passion that Virgil's own tone portrayed. "I told him he'd be okay. He was scared he was going to die, and I told him he'd be fine." He screwed his nose up in disgust at his own behaviour. "How sadistic is that? I deluded him into thinking he was going to survive."

"No." Scott paused, unwilling to think Virgil believed this dark and despondent line of thought. "No, that's not true either. He was scared and you reassured him. You kept him calm; that was all you could do." He sighed sadly, watching Virgil already shake his head in disagreement.

"I should've done something!" Virgil balled his fists up; his pose matching his frustrated tone. Scott saw the moisture in his eyes once more, threatening to become too much. The way he spoke became hampered by his struggle to control himself; his voice becoming thick and congested. To his credit though, none of the tears got any further than his eyes.

Scott wasn't sure if Virgil being Virgil, that was such a good thing.

"Like what?" Scott asked him with a cheerless smile and gentle eyes. He was so desperate to help and understand his brother's anguish, yet he really didn't know where to start.

"Like…. Like…" Virgil threw up his hands in frustration, a small outlet for the vast despair he felt inside. "I don't know!" He exclaimed, evidently aggravated. "Maybe if I could have reached the fire extinguisher or if I could have gotten out of that damned harness!" He swore with distaste.

"Virg…." Scott reached out to him again, watching his brother push him away with renewed vigour. Scott frowned at Virgil, trying to contain the angry, raw frustration that burned so brightly in his eyes. "Virgil, listen to me." At Scott's words the younger man seemed to take some deep breaths in an effort to calm down and sniffled, allowing his eyes to close momentarily. "Even if you could have reached the fire extinguisher, or if you'd somehow managed to release the harness. What could you have done? You're kidding yourself if you think that fire extinguisher would have made any difference. And even if you'd gotten free, he was trapped; you wouldn't have had time to get him out." Scott paused, searching Virgil's expression and the depths of his eyes for some kind of assurance that he was actually listening. There was none.

"Virgil…." He said softly. "It doesn't matter how many times you go over it in your head. You're not going to find anything you could have said or done that would make the situation any different. Because you did everything in your power to help him." He paused again. A gentle squeeze of Virgil's arm, purely for avowal of his comments. Virgil pulled the arm free immediately. "Beating yourself up about this isn't going change anything; it's just going to make you feel worse."

"Maybe I deserve to feel worse." Virgil shrugged, swallowing again and beginning to search the room. "If that's possible." He added quietly.

Scott frowned sympathetically. "Virg…" He sighed. "If you were feeling so bad, why didn't you tell me? Or, if not me, than somebody?" He shook his head. "I know things haven't been easy over the last few days but you should have said something."

Virgil scoffed a laugh. "Yeah, and that would have given you all the ammunition you needed to lock me in a padded room for the rest of my life."

Scott saddened at the comment. "I know I've not exactly instilled confidence in you just recently and I know I've been acting like an idiot." He sighed again. "But I never want you to feel that you can't talk to me."

Virgil wanted to deny that last comment. However, he knew in truth, he couldn't. "I know what you're thinking." He broke the thoughtful silence that had followed with soft words. "You feel guilty. But there were lots of reasons I didn't say anything. It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either, none of this is." Scott closed his eyes, sighing and licking his lips. "You can't punish yourself because Mark died, it wasn't anybody's fault. It was an accident, Virg."

"Then why do I feel so guilty? Hmm, answer me that Scott." Virgil's lips began to tremble again but he bit them together. Causing an iron taste in his mouth and giving him something else to focus on.

"Virgil, you're only human." Scott watched him sympathetically. "If I'd survived an accident that someone else didn't, I'd feel guilty too. It's natural but that doesn't mean it's reasonable. In fact, it's completely irrational; you did all you could and deep down inside you know that." Scott took in a deep breath. "Sometimes things happen that are out of our control, it may seem unfair and unjust but there is no reason; they just happen."

"That's your answer?" Virgil raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Things happen? I'm sure that'll be real comforting to Mark's family." He responded sarcastically.

Scott spent a few moments debating over whether to say what was on his mind. Eventually, he bit the bullet. Bringing up a subject that they seldom talked about. "When Mom died, I spent months, years even, trying to figure out why. Even now, I still ask myself why. Why her? Why not some other Mom who wasn't needed as much, or loved as much?" He paused, keeping a firm control of himself whilst discussing the difficult issue. "What did she do to deserve being taken away from us? What did we do? You asked yourself the same questions, didn't you?"

Virgil bowed his head sadly at the subject; it was not something they spoke about often. Their mother's death had been something that they'd only really discussed when forced to do so. Contrary to his easy manner, and his readiness to be Scott's should to cry on. It was the one subject, Virgil was always happy to let his brother avoid. "You know I did." The reply came eventually, so quiet Scott could easily have missed the words.

"I never found an answer. Did you?" Scott pushed, pleased that Virgil's bowed head was unable to see the tears settling in his own eyes. He furiously blinked them back, almost automatically.

"No." Virgil replied abruptly. His head remained lowered and a morbid, depressing atmosphere surrounded them. The air became suddenly cool despite the warm breeze.

"You know why we never found an answer?" Scott persisted regardless of the awkwardness between them now. He despised this topic as much as Virgil did, both of them continuing to hide from each other. As if they weren't quite ready, even after all these years, to face their true feelings. "Because there isn't one." Scott continued. "Call it what you like; luck, God, fate. The fact is you're here." He paused. "Thank God… or whatever!" Scott scoffed before he smiled gently. "And it has absolutely nothing to do with justification. Just like Mom didn't deserve to die and we didn't deserve to lose her. You don't deserve to have to go through any of this Virg, least of all on your own. You can't punish yourself for something you had no control over."

Virgil sighed shakily. "I can't help it, I feel responsible."

"You're not responsible for anything that happened on that track, just like I'm not responsible for any of you guys anymore. Isn't that what you've just spent the last several hours telling me? You can't change what's already happened; there's no point dwelling on it." Scott's eyes were pleading with his brother to listen to him. Virgil swallowed, feeling himself tremble with the effort it was taking him not to just sit and cry, the despair he felt was so tangible. It may have been what he wanted but it wasn't the Tracy way.

"So what?" Virgil shrugged, frowning and clenching his teeth together. "I'm just supposed to forget about it? I've tried, it doesn't work." He shook his head incredulously; about to go on further but Scott's reply prevented him.

"No." Scott shook his head too. "Of course not. Nobody is expecting you to forget about this. Or to just wake up tomorrow morning and be okay. But, you have to deal with it and all this self persecution and isolation isn't doing that." He paused. "Virg, I know this is hard but you're not achieving anything by pushing people away. You can't run away from this."

"I know I can't." Virgil admitted quietly, his face crumbled and he sat back against the headrest of the bed. Taking a moment to fight an internal battle of wills. When he looked back, the devastation smeared liberally across his face was unmistakeable. Though his lips trembled and his chest shuddered, his eyes remained watery but determined.

"I know I can't run because it's there, constantly reminding me." Scott purposely remained silent watching his brother's struggle and not interrupting the clumsy flow of words, for fear of stopping him. "Every time I close my eyes or the room goes quiet… I see it, I hear it all again. Mark's pleading with me to help him, that sound of him screaming like only a dying man can and his eyes." Scott winced. He tried to squeeze his brothers trembling arms reassuringly but Virgil shrugged him off. He had to settle for catching he younger man's fretful gaze, and holding it in an act of support. "His eyes were so wide and full of pain Scott. I swear, it'll haunt me forever." He finished sadly.

Scott sighed sadly, unsure how to respond to the heartbreaking confession. He thought furiously for something to say that would ease his brother's anguish. However, he knew that words were useless and the moment passed. He knew he had to tread carefully now, after finally getting his brother to open up, the last thing he wanted was to undo all his hard work. He wondered briefly if Virgil even realised, that in opening his soul like he had, he'd told Scott everything he needed to know. Thinking back to what Charlie'd said, a thought came to mind. "Have you been dreaming about it?" Scott asked softly.

Virgil nodded. "I think about it all day, I suppose it's not surprising that I dream about it at night."

"What happens?" Scott asked automatically. He realised abruptly that maybe he'd pushed too hard and began back peddling. "I know it's… I can understand it must be hard, you … you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

Virgil just blinked. When he spoke his dry lips caused a gentle clicking sound every time they made contact. "I see it all over again. I'm back there, trapped in that car and I'm trying so hard to do something, anything. And then I look back and I see him; just like I did before. He's unconscious but the fires still there. Only I never pass out in the dream." He paused, and Scott looked up expectantly to him, urging him on without saying a word. "Mark's eyes open again and he reaches out to me, but I can't reach him…" Virgil blew a breath out of pursed lips in an effort to control himself. "It's horrible Scott, I don't know how to describe it. It's sick; the skins melting off his hands and there's only bones…" He had to stop; he needed a good minute to get control back. His stomach revolted at the recollection and he instinctively brought a hand up to cover his mouth. Rubbing it over his face before dropping it back to his side, as he composed himself. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Scott was telling him, attempting to be calming. "It's alright to be upset after what you've been through." Scott reassured him. Seeing how each time it looked like the moisture in his eyes would fall, Virgil fought it back.

"Don't do that." Virgil pushed back all Scott's attempts at touching him, forcing his brother further away. He screwed his face up, a mix of anger and disgust at Scott's commiseration.

"Do what?" Scott frowned in confusion and at the rough manner with which Virgil rebuked his every attempt to comfort him physically.

"Don't pity me!" Virgil exclaimed angrily.

"I'm not." Scott denied immediately. "I don't mean to. I just want to help you, but I don't know how."

"I'm sorry." Virgil sighed. "I didn't mean it like that, I just don't want people to feel sorry for me. I don't need anyone to rub my back and tell me everything's going to be okay." He paused, shaking his head. "I know it's not."

"It will." Scott told him firmly. "I promise you it will, you just need to give yourself time." He paused again, studying Virgil's distressed appearance. "The dreams, are they like the pictures you drew?" Scott watched as Virgil's screwed his face up at the question. For a few seconds, Scott's eyes widened as it looked like his brother was going to breakdown right there and then. He bowed his head. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that. We don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to."

However, the younger man composed himself once more. "I can't get it out of my head." Virgil replied, thoughtfully. "Seeing it, hearing it, even feeling it; I wake up and I'm petrified. I'm soaking wet from sweating and my hearts beating so fast it's agony to breathe." He paused, realising what he'd just said. "Just like I was in that car. Terrified I was going to die. Panicking." He added remorsefully.

"That's nothing to be ashamed of Virgil." Scott saw his disgust and tried to rebuke it with a frown. "It was a terrifying situation; it's only natural that you'd be afraid. I'd have been afraid." Virgil scoffed but Scott carried on, not prepared to let him voice his disagreement. "I'm just sorry you felt you had to draw the pictures. That you didn't feel you could to come and talk to me, or at least one of us."

Virgil shrugged. "I thought it'd help. I thought maybe if I could see it, y'know process it? Then maybe I'd be able to think clearly. Get it out of my system once and for all."

"But it didn't work, did it?" Scott frowned, this conversation was just escalating his guilt.

"No." Virgil admitted. "It just made me more and more angry." He shook his head. "I hate this…this feeling. Like I'm rotting from the inside out, right at the core but I can't do anything to stop it." He paused, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. "I know time's supposed to heal all wounds but you and I know that's not true."

"Virgil, I'm so sorry you had to dothis on your own." Scott told him sincerely, a sad frown adorning his dark features. "Look, I've been thinking about what Charlie said. You're not going to be able manage on your own. Why don't you come and stay with me for a while? I can help you, just until you're feeling better."

"Keep an eye on me, you mean?" Virgil asked with a sigh, already shaking his head. "Has Dad put you up to this?"

Scott looked indignantly at the comment. "No Dad hasn't said anything. I just hate the idea of leaving you when you're like this." He could see Virgil wasn't convinced and attempted to reassure him. "You don't have to stay for long, just for a few weeks while you still need the help. It's not like you can work like that anyway, you'd only be stuck at home on your own."

"I've got all the help I need in Sam." Virgil replied, his expression revealing he wasn't entirely happy with the invitation. "Besides, I do have my own friends you know, my own life to get back to."

"You're going to let Sam help you out, like I did this morning?" Scott frowned. He nodded his head at the bathroom, insinuating the more personal help he'd been able to provide. He already knew the answer to the question, it was whether or not Virgil would admit it.

"I managed yesterday without any help at all." Virgil matched his frown and became insistent.

"Managed? Oh come on Virg, that was tantamount to torture." Scott smirked, letting a pause envelope them. "There's something else isn't there?"

"You're hardly ever at the apartment anyway." Virgil ignored the comment. "You spend all your time on base. I'd rather go back to Denver; it is my home, kind of."

Scott's frown had deepened throughout Virgil's reply. "You know damn well I'd spend more time at the apartment if you were there, that's just an excuse. What is it?" Virgil closed his eyes and sighed: that being his only response.

"Look Scott, I appreciate the offer but really I just want to go home." Virgil said finally, his sombre tone causing Scott to settle, far from happy with the outcome.

Scott sighed. "Are you sure? I wouldn't fuss, I promise. I know I've been a bit …" He stopped, unable to think of an appropriate word that would describe his anxious state over the last two days. "I know you feel as though I've been worrying unnecessarily and I'm sorry if I've been smothering you. It's only because I care Virg, and I've been so worried about you."

"I know and most of the time I've brought it on myself anyway. "Virgil smiled sadly. "But I can manage Scott; I'll be fine once I get home, really." He insisted, hoping Scott would accept that. The fact that Scott hadn't pulled rank already and insisted on it, was testament to Virgil's words earlier having gotten through.

"I'm not saying you can't manage." Scott smiled warmly. "I'm just saying it might be easier with some support." He frowned anxiously. "I can provide as much or as little support as you want."

"I'm going home Scott." Virgil replied adamantly. "Look, if I'm struggling I'll call you, okay?" Scott knew he wasn't about to get a better reply, sometimes Virgil could be as stubborn as a mule. He sighed, leaning back; he was about to reply when his 'phone began to ring again. "John again?" Virgil asked as Scott reached over to retrieve it. "Take it." He further added when Scott nodded.

"We're not finished here yet." Scott said seriously, as he raised the 'phone up to head height. Answering it with a jovial grin. "What's up John?"

"Scott!" John smiled. "Finally! I tried to call you earlier but there was no answer, I left a message." Scott knew his younger, blonder brother was studying him carefully for any giveaway as to what had happened.

"I didn't hear it ring." Scott shook his head, the lie was so clear and smooth. Even Virgil snorted at the ease with which it came. "So, what's up? It's not Alan and Gordon again is it?"

"What?" John frowned. "Oh, no." He shook his head, realising what Scott meant. "No, no they're fine." He seemed to hesitate. "Are you okay?"

Scott nodded, hoping Virgil couldn't hear John's tone of voice. A quick glance in his brother's direction told Scott, Virgil wasn't even listening anymore. However when he looked back up to John, he could see his blonde brother was becoming more anxious with every passing second. "Fine." He responded shortly. John frowned, but Scott was reluctant to expand any further knowing of the possibility that Virgil could be listening.

"Right." John nodded reluctantly. "Alan was wondering what your plans are for tonight?" He awaited a reply patiently but something in Scott's manner told him he was interrupting.

"Well…" Scott shrugged. "Nothing, why?"

"He wants to go out for a drink. He thinks it'll be good for all five of us to spend an evening together, and Sam of course." John watched Scott frown and spoke before his older brother could. "I agree. I think it'd do us good to spend some time together, so we're going out for a drink tonight. Are you going to come?"

"I'd love to, I think it's a good idea too." Scott began hesitantly, glancing in Virgil's direction.

"But…" John prompted.

"But I'm not going to leave Virgil here on his own and right now, a smoky atmosphere in some bar is the last thing he needs." Scott winced. "I'd love to come John, and I'm sure he would too, but the last thing we need is more complications. His health's got to come first."

"Yeah, you're absolutely right." John nodded. "It's a shame though." He added pensively.

"Don't let it stop you guys going." Scott told him quickly. "We'll stay here." He didn't want to deflate John's enthusiasm. However, at the same time he wasn't about to put Virgil's health at risk by taking him out on the town.

"It won't be the same without you two." John smiled.

"Yeah right!" Scott laughed. "You'll have a great time without Virg and me there to make sure you behave." He tried to make light of the situation, not wanting to impart on John the issues with Virgil's health.

"Listen, I've got an idea. Let me get back to you…" John's face lit up with excitement.

"John," Scott sighed. He didn't want his brother concocting any elaborate plans to get Virgil to go out when there really was no possibility that he would be going anywhere. "Virgil's not really up to be going out tonight. To be honest, I'm not really sure Alan is either."

John suddenly frowned. "Is Virgil okay?"

"What?" Scott frowned a smile. "Yeah, of course he is. He's fine. He just needs to rest that's all; he's had a big day." John nodded sceptically. The thought that Scott was a little too adamant to discount the night altogether crossed his mind and he studied his older brother carefully. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No." Scott frowned with a shake of the head. "Of course not."

"Good." John smiled back, a little uncertainly. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Scott nodded. "Sure," He smiled. "Have a good time." John nodded before the connection was cut and Scott let out a harrowing sigh.

"He said no, didn't he?" Gordon groaned, leaning back against the wall with a thud. "Is that guy allergic to fun or something? What was his excuse?"

John frowned. "He said something about Virgil having had a big day and that he needs to rest." He nervously glanced into the room where Alan and Sam were talking.

Gordon followed his line of vision. "Doesn't Scott realise how much Al needs this? He really needs to know we're behind him right now. He'll be gutted if Scott and Virgil don't at least spend some time with him before we all have to go back."

"I know." John nodded, running his fingers over his chin. "I know. Listen, I've got an idea. I need you to keep Alan occupied, I'm just going out for a bit."

"Going where?" Gordon frowned. "John, the last thing I need is you disappearing on me too."

"Just keep him amused and keep him here, I don't want him going to find Scott and Virg. Okay?" John sounded, quite scarily like Scott. Gordon refrained from pointing that out, instead turning to face John.

"Okay, as long as you tell me where you're going." The younger redhead bargained with a grin.

"It'll be a surprise, let's just say I think I've thought of a way round it. Scott and Virgil don't get out of spending some time with us that easily." John smiled smugly, more than a little pleased with himself.

"I don't like surprises." Gordon pouted, batting his eyelashes.

John laughed. "That's because normally you're the one organising them and they usually get you into some kind of trouble." The younger man grinned in response. "Now, just keep him occupied." John gestured to inside the room, where Alan was now laughing with Sam. "I won't be long."

Gordon scoffed. "Yeah, that's what Virgil said!"

John just glared at him as he turned to leave, slipping out of the room silently. He made his way down to the bar.

XxxxX

Virgil only heard the one side of the conversation but was too deep in thought to really think about what was being said. As a result, he almost jumped when Scott sat back down on the bed.

"What's up?" He asked with as all the nonchalance he could muster.

"Nothing." Scott shook his head. "They wanted to know if we'd go out with them tonight." He informed his brother casually. His mind already formulating theories to continue his argument for Virgil to come and stay with him.

"So what's the plan?" Virgil asked raising an eyebrow at Scott's absentmindedness.

"There is no plan." Scott told him, raising an eyebrow of his own. "You're not going anywhere tonight, especially not some bar. You heard what Charlie said, you need rest, and a smoky atmosphere isn't going help your lungs is it?"

"Scott, I've got bruised ribs; it's hardly a life or death situation. I'll rest when I get back to Denver." He looked up at the taken aback expression on Scott's face and felt he should explain further. Scott opened his mouth to protest at the same time. Virgil however, marginally beat him to it. "Look, I barely get to see you guys as it is. Can you even remember the last time we were all together? Birthdays that used to be family occasions have dwindled because Dad has the business and we've all got lives of our own. We weren't even all together at Christmas because you and Gordon were stuck at work!" He paused, watching the empathy in Scott's expression take hold.

Scott softened, sighing. "I know where you're coming from, but you need to rest. This is exactly what I was saying Virg, you have to take care of yourself. I understand what you're saying but we all call each other regularly and visit. It's not like we're disintegrating, you make it sound like we're drifting apart."

"We are!" Virgil exclaimed. "You don't know anything about Alan's latest girlfriend and I don't know what John's latest project is." He tried to prove his point. "Did you know Gordon's bought a Porsche? I didn't, not till Alan told me." It became obvious that Scott didn't either but Virgil carried on. "And does anybody know anything about this 'Special Project' that Dad's been so engrossed in?"

"Okay Virgil, I get the point." Scott told him.

"Sure, you'll come and stay with me for a few days and John'll visit Alan and we all call each other. But a video link isn't any substitute for the real thing." Virgil took the time to take in a deep breath and slowly let it out again. "You know what I've been looking forward to the most this weekend? Seeing everyone, together. All of us together in the flesh. It sounds stupid but I forget how it feels, what it's like. I miss being able to put my arms round Gordy, when he's complaining that all woman are the same, and I'm telling him it'll work out. I know it's only a weekend but I really miss it; I miss you guys." He paused again. "More then ever." One more pause. "And more than I'd admit to anyone else."

"I know." Scott agreed sadly. "I know and I miss it too, and I'm sure the others do as well."

"Then understand that wanting to spend some time with my brothers tonight isn't pushing myself, it's utilising a rare opportunity." Virgil said sadly, he frowned. "Come on Scott, you miss them as much as I do. I know you do."

"Okay." Scott relented at Virgil's argument. "I just don't want you to make things worse for yourself."

"I won't. Scott don't worry, I'll be fine." Virgil looked up to his brother with a small smile.

Not happy with the situation as it was Scott was determined not to let Virgil bring an end to this conversation. "If you really mean all that about missing us and wanting us all to spend more time together. Why don't you come and stay with me?"

Virgil shrugged, unsure how to explain his reasoning without hurting or offending his brother. "This weekend has been a complete disaster; I just want to go home. After all I've said about missing you guys, I like my freedom too."

"You've got 'Dorothy Complex'." Scott stated, bringing a smirk to Virgil's lips.

During their much younger years, all five of the boys used to go out to their Grandmother's Kansas farm during the summer. The prospect of the annual trip usually caused a great deal of excitement in the Tracy household however, after reaching their destination they soon yearned for home. A desire their Grandmother had termed the 'Dorothy Complex.'

"There's no place like home." Virgil smiled softly in reply, the memory of his Grandmother saying those exact words playing in his mind. "Except Denver's not really home…" He mused. "Whatever." He said finally. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah I do." Scott had to admit.

"I like the idea of my own bedroom again. I can barely hear Sam's snoring back home." Virgil said widening his smirk to a grin.

Scott hesitated. "Y'know, I don't snore and there's a spare room at my apartment…"

"Scott." Virgil interrupted him with an exasperated sigh and a raised eyebrow that told him he was fighting a losing battle. "I want to be able to relax without six pairs of eyes staring at me, to eat a meal without feeling like I'm some kind of prize attraction at the zoo."

Scott smiled sadly, remembering how Alan had told him he'd felt overpowered by Gordon's concern too. "Six pairs of eyes or just mine?"

Virgil closed his eyes, sighing again. "It's not just you." He said softly. "Dad does it too; its just he's a bit more discrete about it."

Scott sighed. "I never meant to make you feel suffocated or like you were under any pressure." He paused reflectively. "I didn't mean to hurt you either."

"I know." Virgil accepted the apology of sorts. "And I didn't mean to be so spiteful."

"You know." Scott replied. "I think you could be right. I think after Wednesday the best thing we can all do is forget this weekend." He ran a hand over his face. "Just put it down to experience and move on."

"You really think this will all be over after Wednesday?" Virgil voiced his concern about the possibility of an inquest.

"Don't you?" Scott returned. "I mean, everyone's interviews were tough but I'm sure they're just doing their jobs. It doesn't mean it has any bearing on the outcome." He shrugged, hoping what he'd just said was right.

"Maybe." Virgil matched his shrug but seemed a little less expectant. "I guess we'll find out on Wednesday."

Scott nodded. "You'll call me as soon as you know anything, won't you?" Virgil smiled, noting the unusual amount of worry in his brother's eyes. He replied by means of a short nod of agreement "And there's no way I can convince you to come and stay for a while?"

Virgil shook his head. "No, I appreciate the offer though and I promise I'll call you. I'll be fine Scott."

"I wish I could convince myself of that." Scott muttered. "Virg, you've got to stop punishing yourself for this. Maybe after Wednesday you'll realise: this was an accident."

Virgil bowed his head. "I know," He admitted softly. "You're right, deep down I know I couldn't have done anything else but I just wish I could." He sighed woefully. "I just wish I could do something that'd make a difference. Something that would stop other people having to go through this, maybe even stop another Mark from dying in the first place." He rubbed his thumbs together, contemplatively. "There must be something, someone out there whocould help to prevent all the needless death in this world." He ran a hand over his face. "It's just so final, and so pointless."

"I know." Scott sighed. "We all wish we could stop people dying Virg. The world'd be a better place without all the needless death there is in it. Imagine if someone could have prevented Mom from dying…" He trailed off, as he thought that possibility out properly in his head.

"There must be something." Virgil broke his thought pattern. "Someone."

"Unfortunately Virg, no one person can save the world." Scott heaved a sigh. "Nobody wants anybody to die but sometimes …."

"Things happen that we have no control over?" Virgil interrupted him, a sad smile tugging at his lips.

"Exactly." Scott smiled, the comment having proved that Virgil had indeed listened to what he'd said and taken it on board. He only hoped his brother would put it into practice and prayed that the sudden lack of tension in the air was testament to Virgil's progress. "Can I ask you something?"

Virgil nodded, a frown of intrigue masking his fatigue. "Anything."

"It's just, you can read me like a book and I've always prided myself on the fact that I could read you just as perceptively. But when Dad told you Mark was dead, you seemed genuinely surprised." Scott shook his head, indicating his perplexity.

"I think…." Virgil sighed, trying to vocalise his thoughts with difficulty. "I think I'd tried to convince myself that if I could still be alive then so could he. It sounds crazy because inside I knew there was no way he could have survived. But there was this tiny part of me that wanted so badly for it to just be some sick part of my overactive imagination. I fooled myself into thinking that none of it was real." He smiled shamefully. "Kind of stupid, huh?"

"No." Scott smiled sadly, shaking his head a little. "It's not stupid at all. If I had the opportunity to deceive myself into thinking that none of this was real, I would too."

"But it is real." Virgil bit the inside of his cheek. "It's about time I faced facts."

Scott smiled. "About time we both faced facts." He corrected.

For a few moments, a silent appreciation passed between them. There had been occasions in their lives when words seemed inappropriate or cumbersome and this was one of them. Silently they communicated their gratitude and admiration to each other without the discomfiture or ineptness of incongruous words.

A sharp knock rattled the silence in the room and Scott got to his feet with a gentle smile in Virgil's direction. "I'll bet that's Dad," He sighed as he made his way over to the door.

"Scott…" Virgil's call stopped him, though it petered out.

"Yep?" Scott turned back to his brother. Studying Virgil's expression he suddenly knew what was to come.

"Nothing." Virgil sighed, shaking his head and suddenly feeling uneasy.

"Me too, Virg." Scott said, not giving his brother any opportunity to go on further. There was another knock and Scott continued on his way to the door, calling back as he went. "Me too." He repeated as he reached the door. "Hey." Virgil heard him greet the person at the door. "I thought you guys were going out?"

"Nope." Gordon's cheery reply came; he brandished two bottles of spirits. "We figured if Virgil wasn't going to come to the party, the party would have to come to Virgil." His grin widened.

"Technically John figured…" Sam grinned too. "But we all agreed."

Scott grinned at his brother before laughing and standing to one side. Both his youngest brothers hurried past him, as they made their way into the room without invitation. Scott gestured for John and Sam to follow. "I thought you were going to be Dad." Scott continued to grin at John's rather sombre expression; Sam noted the cheerlessness of John's demeanour and made his way through to talk to Virgil.

"No, we're not Dad." John said a little tersely. "I've just seen him in the bar." John stopped purposely, adding slowly. "With Charlie Gore. Why didn't you tell me you'd called him out?"

Scott sighed, understanding John's upset. "It was nothing serious." Scott thought that sticking to the same story as they told their father would be beneficial and briefly repeated Virgil's tale of getting his sleeve stuck on the door handle. He attempted to play down the incident but as the conversation progressed, he could tell it was not having the desired effect on his brother.

"Nothing serious!" John exclaimed. "He passed out!"

"He's fine now." Scott reassured his brother. "Charlie gave him something stronger for the pain and told him to take it easy. He said Virgil needs to rest, that's all."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" John asked, frowning angrily.

Scott sighed. "I didn't want to worry you. He's fine, really and I know if Alan's gets wind of this he'll just blame himself." Scott watched his younger brother's gaze drift to where Virgil was fielding Alan and Gordon's questions with a gentle, easy smile. "Speaking of Alan." He gestured into the room. "You haven't said anything to either of them have you?"

John turned to his brother knowing exactly what he was referring to. "No." He said quietly, he sighed gently for a few minutes before catching Scott's gaze. "Have you?" He gestured to Virgil. "Said anything?" He raised an eyebrow. Scott's only reply was to nod, a content expression and a comfortable smile on his lips. John questioned him further. "And?"

"He'll be okay." Scott assured him. "But as far as you and Sam are concerned you never knew, alright? It's important. He can never know that you know."

John nodded but was about to quiz his brother further when a shout from inside the room halted him. "Hey John, are you going to stand out there all night?" Alan was calling.

"We're just coming." Scott called as he practically pulled John into the room, despite the blonde mans reluctance. Scott couldn't help smiling up at where Alan and Gordon had sprawled themselves out on his bed.

"Have you got that cold pizza John?" Alan was asking as he sat up. Scott noticed how he gingerly used his injured shoulder.

John looked down at the box in his hands as if realising he was holding it for the first time, before handing to his youngest brother. "Cold pizza?" Scott was screwing his nose up. "Not last night's cold pizza?"

Alan nodded, licking his lips. "Uh huh, aren't any of you hungry?"

"Funnily enough." John replied sarcastically. "No."

"Hey don't knock it!" Alan protested. "I'm still a student you know!"

Scott smirked as he walked away from the conversation and over to the seating area, where John was retrieving a chair. His casual smile at Alan's defensive comments faded when he realised what John was looking at. There, lying on the floor were the remains of a semi-mauled sketch, similar to the one he had studied. Various other's lay around the area from where Virgil had practically destroyed the notebook. Screwed up pieces of paper and smaller pieces of previous sketches lay scattered around the room, all in a similar state. Some were scrunched up tightly; others had ragged edges where they'd been torn to shreds. Scott had no time to be thankful that neither their father nor Charlie had noticed them and hastily picked the remnants of the drawings up. Muttering an explanation as he did.

"You know how testy Virgil gets when he can't get it perfect." He stuffed the shredded pieces of discarded paper inside the hardback book. Picking it up where it had landed on the floor and doing his utmost to ignore John's questioning stares. He knew there would be questions from his blonde brother, questions that would not be easy to answer without betraying Virgil's trust. But he decided to leave that dilemma for another day. Hurriedly he passed his brother a chair and headed back to the conversation. John would never dream of asking in front of the others, which meant he was safe. For now, anyway...


	20. Memories & Breaking Point

Authors Note:  Firstly, apologies for the huge delay on this chapter. I can assure you that real life is starting (albeit slowly) to pick up now, so hopefully I'll be able to get the finished article up soon. Secondly, as always reviews are indispensable so please don't hesitate to drop me a line. No matter how big or small, it's really helpful to know which parts flow or work, and which don't. Finally, and by no means least, thank you to all those who reviewed the last chapter; I'm sure you are all aware by now, of how much I appreciate it.

Chapter Twenty – Memories & Breaking Point

Scott watched his blonde brother with trepidation as they both took their seats. John sat in quiet contemplation for a while and Scott knew it was only a matter of time before his brother confronted him about what had happened that afternoon. Nevertheless, keeping a wary eye on John, he turned his attention back to the conversation that went on around them.

"You should have seen her Virg…" Alan gave a low whistle of appreciation. "She was so hot; kind of looked a bit like Sapphire Norman, y'know the movie star. Dark hair flowing down to her butt, gorgeous brown eyes, these suggestive eyelashes and massive…"

"Ok Al," Virgil smirked, gesturing to where Alan's hands had risen to his chest to demonstrate what he was obviously about to say. "We get the picture."

Alan continued, not at all troubled. "I would have been in with a chance if it hadn't been for Gordon scaring her off." He scowled at his brother, in typical Alan style.

"Me scaring her off!" The young aquanaut was screeching in faked offence. "I don't think so. She did see your face, you know." Gordon dodged Alan's petulant but playful swipe, whilst Virgil and Sam sniggered at the comment.

Alan pouted. "You're just jealous that she wasn't interested in you." He told his brother confidently. "If it's any consolation Gordy, you can't help the colour of your hair. It's not your fault; you would have clashed with her top." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and pulled a face akin to mock reassurance. To Scott, it sounded more patronising than comforting.

"Ouch!" Sam laughed at the scathing remarks that flew across the room, watching Alan grin contently at his brother and Gordon shake his head, smiling dangerously.

Scott saw the signs that the playful banter was becoming less playful. He decided to intervene before it escalated any further. "Okay Kids, that's enough." He told them, firmly. "Play nice or don't play at all."

Virgil looked up to him as he spoke, studying his older brother with a look of fascination. Scott met the gaze and realised what Virgil was thinking. He'd already taken on a role of authority, quashing a would be argument before he'd even entered into the conversation. Virgil smiled softly at his brother's demeanour; there were just some aspects of Scott's character that would never change. And if he was honest to himself, he wasn't sure whether he could ever want them to either.

"Scott Tracy." Gordon sighed dramatically. "Ever the voice of authority." He grinned up at his older brother. Scott however, surreptitiously looked to the floor, in the knowledge that Virgil was also studying him for any response. "I know this is hard for you to understand Scotty, but we're grown ups now." Gordon continued belittlingly. To his left Alan sniggered, and he could've sworn John was smirking beneath his usual serious expression.

Scott found himself looking up to Gordon sharply, ready with an angry retort. Aggravating the very situation he was attempting to prevent.

Virgil watched his older brother's reaction, realising what was about to happen before anyone else.

"Well if you start acting like adults, then maybe we'll start treating you like adults." Virgil told Gordon firmly before glancing up at Scott. Having encountered years of practice in remaining stoic in the face of Gordon's sometimes humorous banter, he showed no reaction as he spoke.

It's strange how one fleeting look can convey so much more than a thousand words. He thought ruefully.

Scott swallowed and smiled his thanks briefly for Virgil's intervention. Virgil knew perfectly well that after their conversation earlier, now was not the time for Gordon to be making comments like that.

"You would side with him!" The young redhead laughed at the strong sense of loyalty his older brothers had. He looked at Virgil and shook his head. "You know, it doesn't matter what happens you two always side together." Gordon sat up properly, from where he'd propped himself up on his elbows. "Even if you don't agree on something, you always pretend you do."

"That's not true." Scott said as he made his way over to the ample supply of alcohol his brothers had brought with them. "We disagree sometimes." His mind immediately replayed that afternoons event. Perhaps if Gordon and Alan had seen what had really happened, they wouldn't think that the older two never argued, he thought soberly. Of course, on the other hand, the guilt and shame he felt at his actions still held his heart hostage, despite Virgil's words. To have his younger brothers know what'd happened would have been too much for him to take. Right now, he'd had just about enough. Shaking himself, he took one of the bottles and read the label. "Anyone want a drink?" Several nods of the head responded and he began handing out glasses of scotch. "Are you still on painkillers?" He addressed his youngest brother.

The hesitation in Alan's response was the only answer Scott needed. He proceeded to pour two glasses of orange juice, handing one to Virgil and the other to his youngest brother who promptly screwed his nose up at the drink.

"One won't hurt." Alan muttered, though loud enough for all to hear. Out the corner of his eye, he saw his red-haired brother's head swivel towards him. Turning to face Gordon, he was confronted with an angry glare at the comment. Meant to serve as a warning, it fulfilled its purpose more than adequately. Alan sheepishly looked away, shrivelling a little on the inside.

Gordon watched Scott open his mouth to respond. He was half tempted to force Alan to take the impending lecture. However, he was reminded of how vulnerable his younger brother had seemed that morning when they'd spoken. Deciding that Alan didn't really need Scott on his back too, Gordon spoke quickly, before his oldest brother had the chance.

"Name a time." Suddenly all eyes turned to him inquisitively. The sudden reversal in conversation was a little confusing to everyone, judging by the identical frowns. "Name a time when you've disagreed, you two never argue." He continued flawlessly. Constant horsing around when he was a child, and several pranks that had landed him in his Commanders office, had taught him to think quickly on his feet. Now, it came almost as a second nature to him.

Scott didn't have to rack his brains to think of a time and guiltily looked to the floor. Again, Virgil stepped into the breach. "There was…. Well, when…" He struggled. Gordon was right; he and Scott hardly ever disagreed.

"How about when Virgil painted your model Tiger Fighter, Scott?" Alan put forward.

Scott frowned, an intrigued smirk on his lips. "How did you know about that, you were just a baby?" He turned on his brother.

Alan waved a hand lackadaisically. "Dad told me. One of those 'Sometimes people do things they think are helpful when really they're not' lectures." He said in his best impersonation of their father; the imitation itself was enough to cause Sam and Gordon to chuckle.

Sam's smile faded. "Why did you paint his model?" He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Virgil smiled with a shrug. "He told me blue was his favourite colour, so I painted it blue." The logic sounded as simple now, as it had seemed to him all those years ago.

"After I'd spent hours perfecting it!" Scott growled with a gentle smile. Remembering the look of pure devastation on a young Virgil's face, when he'd exploded on seeing the state of his prize model.

"I thought he'd be pleased." Virgil shook his head, also reminded of one of the few moments in his youth when his older brother had truly been angry with him. "He hit the roof."

"Well I had spent the better part of three days finalizing the colour scheme." Scott defended himself, grinning at his closest brother. "It was supposed to be camouflaged greens, by the time Picasso here had finished with it, it was a murky grey." Scott complained.

"And art's hardly his strong point." Gordon told Sam in a whisper.

"Yeah." Alan agreed softly. "It probably looked better when Virgil had finished with it." He murmured.

"You threw a tantrum." Virgil was saying to Scott, oblivious of the younger two's comments. "Because Dad wouldn't buy you another one, and he told you to paint over it instead." He laughed. Remembering the scene only too well.

Scott had marched into his father's study, demanding Virgil be punished and that he get a new model. Virgil had nervously stood at the door watching, tears brimming at the fact he'd upset his brother and afraid that his father would be mad too. Virgil had been mildly surprised that his father had so calmly interrupted the conference call he was engaged in, to turn to Scott. Telling the young boy that he was very busy at the moment and he shouldn't barge into Daddy's office without knocking. Scott had promptly burst into a rendition of the facts and Jeff had told him in no uncertain terms that it would have to wait. It had been like a Mexican standoff all afternoon, Virgil eventually worked up the courage to try to apologise but Scott was having none of it.

Finally, when their father had immerged. Scott was told that if he let the model dry, Virgil would help him re-paint it in the right colours. Scott had gone on to throw a massive tantrum, insisting Virgil would never touch one of his models ever again and that he wanted a new one.

"I did not throw a tantrum." Scott denied calmly, sipping at his scotch slowly. Smirking to himself as the same scene replayed in his head, though from an entirely different perspective.

"You did!" Virgil told him, grinning. "You were shouting and screaming." He shook his head, the image of a very young Scott forced to sit on one of the hard kitchen chairs while he calmed down, sprang to mind. It was one of their father's oldest forms of punishment. Virgil frowned as he distinctly remembered Scott still refusing to apologise for his behaviour. "Didn't you end up going to bed before supper?" He asked. "Yeah that's right!" He exclaimed. "Because you wouldn't apologise."

"It wasn't a tantrum. I was just a little upset." Scott continued to refute the claims, contrary to Virgil's snort of incredulity. "And for your information, I was tired and went to bed early."

"Dad made you sit on the chair for an hour." Virgil was still smirking, remembering more and more.

"Not The Chair?" Alan winced. "Man, Scotty, you must've done something real bad to get that for a whole hour." The young blonde guffawed, barely able to contain his giggling.

"The chair?" Sam asked, frowning.

"When we were younger, and we'd been naughty. Dad used to make us sit quietly on one of the old wooden chairs in the kitchen. It'd start at ten minutes, then every time we did or said something else, we'd get another ten minutes. It'd just get more and more." John informed the mechanic softly.

"Yeah." Alan joined in. "It was so boring. He used to say it gave us time to reflect on what we'd done. Then he'd ask us whether we were ready to apologise…"

"If we said no." Gordon continued the tale. "Then you'd get another ten minutes, until you were." He paused. "Believe me, it doesn't sound much, but it was torture!" He gestured to Alan. "We had more experience of it than most." The two younger brothers laughed hysterically at Scott's predicament.

"I definitely remember you sat on that chair, bawling your eyes out for at least an hour. Then when you wouldn't apologise, Dad sent you to bed without any supper." Virgil was recalling, as his eyes sparkled mischievously. The description just caused Alan to laugh harder.

Gordon watched the playful banter continue a little more forlornly than his younger brother did. It wasn't often now that he got to see these two brothers so relaxed, or openly just enjoying each other's company. It was something he missed more terribly then he would ever admit, even to Alan.

"Why should I have apologised?" Scott smirked incredulously. "You were the one who painted my model!" He shook his head, a healthy laugh escaping his lips.

"Ah.," Virgil droned. "So you're not denying it now."

"I didn't say that." Scott fired back quickly, his grin widening. "I was just pointing out that it should have been you apologising to me, not the other way around!"

Virgil laughed. "I tried; you put your hands over your ears, sat down at the bottom of the stairs and starting singing. Or don't you remember that?"

Scott clearly avoided the question, with a grin. "I didn't throw a tantrum. I was upset and disappointed, and I chose to go to bed early." He turned to where Gordon and Alan were in fits of laughter at the conversation. "I fail to see what's so funny about all this." Even John was silently smirking.

Gordon tried to sit up, tears stinging his eyes. As Alan rolled over, grasping his ribs.

"The thought of you Scott…" Gordon paused, to force breath into his lungs.

"And Dad telling you off…" Alan didn't get any further, his grin becoming wider.

"The all powerful, high and mighty Scott Tracy…" Gordon paused. "Throwing a tantrum…" He spluttered out, before joining Alan and dissolving into fits of laughter once more.

"I was a child once too, you know." Scott defended himself with a grin. The comment sobered Virgil's smile a little though, he was reminded of Scott's exceptionally short childhood. "Still," The older man continued, oblivious to Virgil's pensive expression. "I didn't apologise. Did I?" He grinned triumphantly.

Virgil's smile widened again. "No Scott," He grinned. "You didn't apologise, but I got your share of supper."

Virgil laughed, but Scott scowled good naturedly, shaking his head.

"I take it back," Gordon was grinning, still recovering from the image of Scott throwing a tantrum. "Maybe they do disagree!"

"That doesn't count anyway." Scott was declaring. "I must've been what? No more than twelve years old."

Scott and Virgil glared at each other briefly, before smirking. A silent message declaring their contentment passing between them. Virgil sighed, this was definitely how this weekend should have been, he thought happily. Relaxing and joking with his brothers, that was what family was about, wasn't it? The good as well as the bad.

"Okay, well what about that time at Grandma's when Virgil used your brand new shirt as an oil rag?" Gordon pushed.

"That was a simple misunderstanding." Scott remained calm. "Virgil picked up the wrong bag, I forgave him." Alan briefly wondered whether his older brother would have continued to be so calm if he knew that in truth, it wasn't Virgil's mistake at all, and that he and Gordon had swapped the bags deliberately. "Besides." Scott sighed. "You're hardly in a position to talk, you're always arguing with people Gordon! Usually after playing some dumb prank. You can guarantee that if there was argument in our house, Gordon was involved somewhere!"

"What about Grandma's vase then?" Gordon exclaimed, quick to defend himself. "She had me sat in her rocking chair for three hours! Listening to how unique that vase was, telling me how she couldn't possibly replace it. And I never broke the damned thing!"

Sam frowned. "Well, didn't you tell her that?" He asked, obviously confused.

"Of course he told her." John informed the mechanic. "She didn't believe him." Virgil grinned. "Nothing that ever happened in our house was Gordon's fault." John added with his own drop of sarcasm.

Sam smirked. "So if you didn't break it, then who did?"

"Scott!" Gordon accused sharply.

Scott nearly choked on his scotch. "Me!" He exclaimed. "How do you figure that one? I was out in the barn with John, looking for Virgil." John nodded his corroboration and all eyes turned to Virgil, who looked aghast at the possibility.

"I went for a ride in the harvester." Virgil told them, wide eyed at the possibility of being accused. "How could you even think it was me?"

"But that only leaves… …" All eyes turned to Alan, who had turned a rare shade of red and was looking guiltily to the floor.

"It was an accident." Alan said sheepishly, grinning up at Gordon's shocked expression.

"I can't believe you! You … You told me it was Scott!" Gordon exclaimed, shocked at the revelation. "You even helped me put the weights in his remote controlled airplane."

"I knew it!" Virgil exclaimed. "Damn! What did I tell you Scott?" He smirked. "I knew it was you, we just couldn't prove it." He shook his head. "It took us ages to figure out why the damned thing wouldn't fly."

"Yeah!" John exclaimed. "They had me go over every electrical connection in the whole thing twice, before they realised it was too heavy. You know you could have burnt the motor out with a stunt like that?"

Sam was laughing to himself. "We should do this more often, it's hilarious!"

Virgil couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. "Well, they say confessions good for the soul." He shrugged.

"Well if it is," Gordon smirked. "Alan's just earned himself a sure seat in heaven." He growled with a smirk.

Though the teasing and reminiscing went on into the night and the alcohol flowed, Scott found it increasingly difficult to shake off John's constant staring. To the point where he began to understand how Virgil had felt at breakfast. As the night progressed, he became more and more aware of just how quiet John was. He subsequently became uncomfortable that his brothers might notice it too. Normally, Virgil would have picked up on John's behaviour but Scott presumed that on this occasion, Virgil had been too preoccupied with the goings on around him. Baring John's fretful conduct, which seemed to diminish with more scotch, the evening turned out to be an enjoyable one.

The reminiscing brought back forgotten childhood memories and the easy playful banter that kept the mood light, reminded Scott of how things used to be. He yawned as he glanced around the room, not really listening to Sam and John's conversation; he turned his attention to the youngest two. Asleep on his bed, Alan had chosen to use Gordon's chest as a pillow and Scott smiled at the scene. Both of them seemed completely relaxed, content in each other's company. It reminded him of how they used to be as children.

Scott got round to thinking about what Virgil had said earlier that afternoon. It was only now after experiencing the forgotten ease of his brothers' presence that he realised just how right his closest friend had been. When he had left for the Air Force, the thing he'd missed most was the contact with his family. Even at college, he'd still seen them all regularly. As time went on though, he'd become accustomed to the Air Force lifestyle. As the others had all gotten their own careers and lives, it became increasingly difficult for him to know everything about his brothers. Time taken focusing on his own career meant it didn't seem important that he didn't know the inconsequential things, as long as he was there for the important stuff. Scott sighed, concluding that each year that passed he was sacrificing a little bit more of his family for his career. The sad thing was; it wasn't just him, they were all doing it.

"A word?" John shattered Scott's quiet contemplation. He gestured to where Sam had gone into the kitchenette for a refill, but kept his voice extremely low.

"John…" Scott tried to stop it before it had started but it was no use, John wouldn't be halted any more.

"You better start telling me what the hell's going on Scott." The younger blonde began, his tone was clear and the words concise. Scott knew it wasn't often John spoke with such command; however, he also knew it wasn't often he got this rattled about anything.

"Not now, John. We'll talk later okay?" Scott tried to put the inevitable off, at least until he'd had real time to think his options through. Right now, they'd both been drinking and whilst they weren't drunk, Scott didn't feel he was as sharp as he could be.

"No, it's not okay." John replied, heatedly. "He's my brother too Scott. I've got a right to know."

"Later." Scott replied, ignoring the comment and purposely not looking at John. He was surprised, as he took a sip of the amber liquid in his hands, when John abruptly stood. "Where are you going?" He frowned up at his younger brother.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me anything. I'll just have to ask Virgil, won't I?"

"John!" Scott hissed. He hastily put his glass down and raced over to where John approached their sleeping brother. Just as John held a hand out to Virgil's arm Scott pulled him back, leading him away and into the quiet of the hallway. He kept glancing back to Sam in the kitchenette and Virgil, whose head had dropped to his chest as he'd drifted off to a restless sleep. "What do you think you're playing at?" He asked John angrily.

"I could ask you the same question." John frowned, firing his reply back with the same vigour.

"Stop being such an ass John!" Scott growled, shaking his head. He was not in the mood for John's word games. "Now isn't the time or the place, you leave him alone." Scott found himself pointing a shaky figure at his brother, in a threatening manner. "You hear me?"

"Well, you're the expert on being an ass." John shook his head irritably at his brother. "I'll bet you stormed in here and started throwing your weight about this afternoon. Didn't you?"

Scott hung his head, keeping his temper in check. "We talked." He said. His tone of voice dangerously low.

"Didn't you?" John repeated, with force.

"No." Scott replied directly, looking up to John's eyes. "Like I said, we talked."

"But you upset him, didn't you?" John didn't really need a reply. He watched as Scott hung his head, hiding away from yet another brother's verbal attack.

This was the final straw, he'd had it all from Virgil already and he didn't need to be reminded by John. This weekend had truly taken it out of him, especially today. Realising the extent of Virgil's feelings, and how his own actions were contributing to his imminent fall from grace, had been a blow for him. He felt drained, emotionally and physically, and he wasn't really up to John's tedious attempt at lecturing him. Feeling the heat of the attack coming from all angles now, he bowed his head in defeat and let John go on.

John noticed the uncharacteristic bowing of the head but continued. In the knowledge that Scott Tracy was never beaten, he put it down to exasperation rather than defeat. "Did you even listen to what I said?" John continued. "Well, I hope you're pleased with yourself." He rebuked with a scoff.

Scott's head snapped up as his blonde brother almost repeated the very words Virgil had used. "What was I supposed to do John?" He growled. "What the hell did you expect?"

John was momentarily stunned by the red rims that surrounded his older brother's eyes. Immediately, he softened, unsure of how to respond. Even in front of Virgil, Scott rarely let his emotions run so close to the surface. Never had John seen his older brother so genuinely close to tears, nor had he ever seen such despair cross his face. Scott had always kept his emotions well hidden from his brothers, to the point where more often then not, it was difficult for them to anticipate exactly what he was thinking.

"Scott…" John reached a hand up to his brother's shoulder, where they stood facing each other in the hallway. He truly was unsure what else to do or say; this was groundbreaking territory for him.

Scott batted the comforting hand away a little roughly, before reaching his own hand up to rub his eyes. Finally, he pinched the bridge of his nose, before looking up to his blonde brother. His face becoming the embodiment of detachment and calm.

"I'm sorry…" John fumbled to get the words out, feeling suddenly out of his depth. "I didn't mean…" He stopped with a sigh. "I know you did what you thought was the right thing." He glanced across to the bed where Virgil slept. "Is he really okay, Scott?"

Scott hesitated. "He's been through hell John." He sighed, following his brothers gaze. "He's not going to be okay for a while." Scott's gaze drifted to where Alan snored on Gordon's chest. "Neither of them are."

John sighed pensively. Letting the anguish ridden silence persist whilst they both continued to stare across the room, in deep, thoughtful reflection.

After an overly long pause, John coughed. "What really happened this afternoon Scott?" He asked softly.

Scott leant against the door arch that led into the main sleeping area, his gaze unmoving. "You know I'm not going to tell you, so why ask?"

John sighed, running a hand over his face. "Because he's my brother and I care about him. If there's something wrong I've got a right to know." He saw Scott scoff a smirk at that comment, but chose to disregard it and carried on. "I love him just as much as you do Scott."

Scott turned to face him. "You were the one who was so insistent we respected Virgil's privacy." He paused to shrug, "Does that change now it's you that wants to know?"

"No, of course not." John shook his head. "I'm not asking you to breach the trust he's placed in you Scott, I just want to… If I've got to leave him here tomorrow, I need to know that he's going to be okay."

"Yeah." Scott sighed, smiling sadly and looking back to his sleeping brothers. "Me too."

"You're not convinced?" John asked, astutely.

"I told you," Scott swallowed. "He'll be fine."

"Meaning what? He isn't fine now?" John sighed again, waiving a hand. "Stop playing games Scott and just tell me!"

Scott looked back to his blonde brother. He reached a hand out to rest on John's shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he spoke. "John, it's going to take a while. He just needs some time, Alan too. I promise you they'll be okay, we're all going to keep on eye on them right?"

"Right." John nodded. He watched as Scott began to walk away, obviously concluding that the conversation was over. John however grasped his arm as it dropped from his shoulder, forcing Scott to turn back.

"What about the pictures?" The younger man asked.

"John, you know how he is about his drawings…" Scott trailed off. "There's nothing to tell."

"Really?" John questioned. He evidently didn't believe his brother, however he knew Scott would never infringe the faith Virgil placed in him; he was fighting a losing battle. Silently he conceded with grace, a lesson he had learned when it came to Scott and Virgil, a long time ago. He took a few moments to study his oldest brother. Scott seemed a little pale and he looked tired. John pondered over whether exhausted was a better description than tired. Either way, his oldest brother didn't look all that healthy. "Scott, are you okay?"

Scott looked up sharply, surprised by the question. "Me?" He queried. "Yeah, of course. I'm fine." He paused. "Why?"

John shrugged. "It's been a tough weekend all round, huh?" He could only guess at the conversation that'd taken place that afternoon. However, he could see whatever had been said, had certainly affected his oldest brother deeply.

Scott just swallowed and nodded, he didn't trust himself to reply.

"Scott," John sighed. "I…"

"What?" Scott frowned, when it appeared John wasn't going to continue.

"Just," The younger man pulled a face, as if deciding how to word what he wanted to say. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier and for the way I've acted tonight." He paused; Scott was already shaking his head. "I was worried but I didn't mean to take it out on you. I was doing the very thing I warned you not to do earlier; I was placing my own feelings above Virgil's." He looked directly at Scott. "I'm sorry."

"Me too." Scott sighed heartily. He truly meant those words too. "We're all guilty of doing that sometimes." He swallowed, taking a deep breath. "But not any more. Things are going to change. Things with Al and Virg, and me. They can only get better, right?"

John was surprised at the unconcealed play of emotions that crossed his brother's eyes. He wondered how much of it was really Scott's lack of censorship, and how much was the emotional exhaustion he felt.

"Right." John found himself agreeing, though his mind asked questions he knew he would get no answers to.

A sharp but soft rap on the door broke John's thoughts and his head snapped up to look at his brother inquisitively. As he did, Sam appeared in the doorway. He glanced at his watch, speaking softly so as not to wake the others. "Who's that going to be? It's quarter past midnight."

"Dad." Both John and Scott responded in unison. Scott turned and picked up his half-full glass of scotch from the other side of the room. The gentle knocking continued, as he took a long gulp before heading for the door. "You'd better get those two to bed Johnny."

John nodded mutely, but remained surprised by the use of his childhood nickname. He could only conclude that Scott was feeling insecure and he hoped he'd done enough to reassure his oldest brother. He worried though, that it was normally Virgil that Scott sought comfort from when he needed it. And as much as Gordon had expressed earlier; he was certainly no Virgil.

"Yeah." He agreed a little belatedly and somewhat distracted. "You're right. It's late." John looked across to his sleeping brothers and reached forward to wake them up. "Gordy… Gordon, wake up."

Two groggy amber eyes squinted back at him against the light. "What time is it?" Gordon asked blearily, yawning and looking down to the mop of blonde hair that was making his chest feel so heavy.

"Time you went to bed, come on." John smiled in response.

Alan grumbled as Gordon moved, his pillow having shifted slightly. "Come on Al." John shook his shoulder a little, "Time to get you to bed."

Whereas Gordon sat up with a yawn and a stretch, Alan turned over mumbling something. John tried once more to wake him with a similar result, before Gordon intervened.

"I'll wake him." He yawned, reaching a hand to cover his mouth. John just nodded, clearing up the glass's and taking them to the kitchenette, where Sam stood.

"Al." Gordon was shaking his younger brother. "Al, wake up."

The young blonde's only response was to bring his knees up to his chest and bat his older brother's hand away. "G'way Gord'n." He mumbled.

"Alan!" Gordon whispered fiercely. "Wake up!"

"What?" He was greeted by irritated blue eyes staring across at him. "Would you shut up?"

"Keep it down." Gordon kept his voice low; gesturing to Virgil's sleeping form. "Come on, we've got to get to bed."

"I'm too tired to move." Alan complained, closing his eyes petulantly.

"Well you got two choices buddy," Gordon was smiling down at him, his hair ruffled. "You either move on your own, or Scott'll help you out. Either way, he wants his bed back."

Alan popped an eye open at the mention of the fact he was laid on Scott's bed. Yawning, he began to sit up. "Okay, okay, I'm coming. Alright!" As he pushed himself up, he automatically used his injured shoulder. And winced as it collapsed beneath his weight. "Damn!" He cursed, as he fell back unceremoniously onto Gordon.

"Ow!" Gordon complained from underneath him.

"Shh!" John hissed from above them. "You'll wake Virgil up!" Grabbing his youngest brother's arm and pulling him until he was standing, John guided him towards the door, whilst periodically checking that Gordon was following. He bid goodnight to Sam and, placing an arm round either brother, led them to where he could hear Scott and their father talking.

Meanwhile, Scott had reached the door. Opening it to greet their father. "Hi Dad." He smiled. Though he felt incredibly tired, he attempted to at least appear coherent.

"I didn't wake you did I? Charlie's just left and I thought you'd still be up." Jeff frowned at Scott's fatigued features.

"No, we're still up." Scott confirmed stifling a yawn.

"How's Virgil?" Jeff asked, a frown of concern making his greying features look older than their years. He walked into the hallway, not accustomed to waiting for invites.

"Asleep." Scott told their father. "He's alright; he seems to be breathing better."

"Good." Jeff's frown lifted as a brief silence surrounded them. Scott felt too tried to make conversation and John took the moment to guide two sleepy figures between them, bidding their goodnights as they went.

Jeff watched them as they traipsed out of the room. John seemed to be the only alert one of the three; both Gordon and Alan were lethargic, to say the least. As he watched them disappear down the hall, he couldn't help but worry that they wouldn't make it back to their own room. He turned back to his eldest son. "Been having a party?"

Scott smirked. "Something like that." He responded cheerily. Feeling a little more awake himself, he followed his father down the hallway and into the main sleeping area. Unsurprised to witness the older man making a beeline for Virgil.

"He's alright Dad." Scott commented, as he watched his father fuss with the bed sheets. Virgil murmured in his sleep at the intrusion and Scott glanced across to his father, hoping the movement hadn't woken his brother.

Virgil settled and Jeff looked up at Scott, across the bed. "He's not alright like this. You heard what Charlie said; help me sit him up properly."

"Father…" Scott protested. Not wanting to disturb his younger brother, who seemed content enough despite the restlessness of his sleep. The words petered out as Jeff reached forward to his second eldest son, regardless of Scott's comments. He wrapped his arms around Virgil's chest, supporting his head as he pulled the sleeping man up into his shoulder. When Scott made no immediate movement, he looked up expectantly to where the dark haired man stood.

"Quickly Scott!" He whispered. "Move those pillows."

Scott fluffed up the pillows before replacing them, adding one from his own bed to support his brother. He was unsurprised when he heard a grumble emitted from Jeff's shoulder. Looking across at his father, he couldn't stop the irritated frown that adorned his features. The last thing he wanted was to disturb Virgil needlessly through redundant fussing. With a sigh, Scott moved to help Jeff sit Virgil back against the pillows. He tried to soothe his brother's sleepy mumbling by gently but reassuringly rubbing at the top of his arm. It didn't have the desired effect; instead, it only seemed to rouse Virgil further.

Jeff watched closely as Virgil's eyes blinked slightly. "Dad?" Virgil slurred, drowsiness and fatigue causing him to appear inarticulate.

"Shh." Jeff whispered. Taking the blankets that had pooled at Virgil's waist, he pulled them up to the young man's chin. "Shh." He repeated, running a hand over Virgil's hair in the same way Scott had done on innumerable occasions.

Virgil seemed to settle, and Jeff looked to where Scott sat on the edge of his bed. He had to look back to confirm what his eyes were telling him. The image that greeted him, reminded Jeff instantly of the little boy who had sat at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him, on the night of his wife's death. Despite being told to go to bed several times by his Grandmother, when Jeff had returned home in the early hours of the morning, he'd been greeted with the same expression he saw now. Vacant, dismayed eyes that struggled to find purpose; so lost and disoriented. Jeff forced himself back to the present, pushing back the memories of his mother taking a distraught Scott to bed, after he'd cried himself into a state of exhaustion. Jeff opened his mouth to comment on Scott's daze like state when they were disturbed.

"Scott, I…" Sam trailed off as he appeared, taking in the scene and lowering his voice. "Sorry, Mr Tracy. I didn't know you were still here."

Jeff shook his head. "It's okay Sam." He paused, another concerned glance in Scott's direction and he came to a quick decision. "Actually Sam, I wonder if you'd mind staying in my room? I'd like to stay in here, just for tonight."

Scott's head snapped up at the words. "Dad, you don't have to do that." He frowned, glancing over to Virgil and knowing his brother would hate the idea. "We'll be fine…"

"Do you mind Sam?" Jeff ignored him.

"No," Sam coughed, clearly uncomfortable. "Of course not."

"Good man." Jeff sighed. "I'll go and get my things; I'll be back in a few minutes." He glanced back at Virgil once more before heading toward the door.

Scott heaved a heavy sigh, reaching a hand up to rub his face. A groan escaped his lips before he turned back to Sam, who looked far from comfortable at the situation.

"I'm sorry." The mechanic smiled weakly. "Should I have said no?"

Scott sighed again. "No, once he's got an idea in his head…" He shook his head, trailing off. "He'd have found a way round it."

"Sorry." Sam apologised again, meekly.

"Don't be." Scott smiled up at him lethargically. Sam seemed hesitant, and fiddled with his hands nervously as he hoped from foot to foot. "Something wrong, Sam?" Scott frowned, taking in his behaviour.

Sam looked away with a shrug. "I know you two have always been close." He began, looking at Virgil as he spoke. "He talks about you a lot, he's very proud of you." Scott looked to the floor, humbled. "But he's my best friend Scott. He's done more for me over the years I've known him, than my own brother has in my whole life. If there's something wrong with him, I'd like to think he'd want me to know. How sick is he?"

"He's fine." Scott told him a little harshly and without hesitation. As he looked across at the worried young man who stood before him, he truly considered his brother's relationship with the mechanic. Virgil spoke a lot about Sam, Scott knew they were close friends and always had been since their college days. He suddenly pondered, in light of their conversation that afternoon, if maybe there was a small part of him that was jealous of Sam's close friendship with his brother. The thought struck him that maybe Sam had helped to fill the gap he'd left in Virgil's life when he'd joined the Air Force.

"Right, thanks." Sam was saying as he began walking away, his head bowed slightly.

"Sam." The mechanic turned back at Scott's call. "He'll be okay; he just needs a lot of rest." Scott attempted to smile. "Bruised ribs aren't to be taken lightly; he's got to take it easy that's all."

Sam smiled. "Don't worry; I'll keep an eye on him." He said as he walked away.

"Yeah," Scott turned back to his sleeping brother wistfully. "Thanks."

"Oh Scott," Sam turned back to the preoccupied pilot. "Scott?" He repeated when Scott made no acknowledgment. He placed a hand on the older man's shoulder, frowning a little. "Scott?"

"Jesus! You made me jump." Scott sighed, shaking himself from his revelry. "I thought you'd gone to pack."

"Actually, I thought maybe now might be a good time to give you these." He took both of Scott's hands and placed the discs with the camera footage on, in them. Forcefully wrapping the older man's fingers round the black casing.

Scott looked down at the items languorously, before sighing. "Thanks." He paused. "Sam, you won't say anything, will you? Virgil thinks I'm the only one that's seen these and I really want it to stay that way. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell him that you know."

Sam nodded sadly. "Know what?" He grinned.

"Good man." Scott clapped him on the back. "Thanks."

XxxxX

"Come on Al." John hissed, as he practically dragged his youngest brother in the direction of their room.

"John! Hurry up! I need the key card." Gordon was moaning as he leant against the door frame.

"Here," John threw it at him, as he wrapped his arms around Alan's shoulders to prevent the younger blonde from falling over. He breathed a sigh of relief as he finally managed to get both his younger brothers inside the room, closing the door with a clatter and leaning against it.

Gordon immediately ran into the bathroom. Whilst Alan mumbled something incoherently, as he walked across to his bed. Stripping his clothes off as he went, he declared he was tired, before crawling between the sheets and burying his head in the pillows. Never to be seen again.

John sat down on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh. Between worrying about Scott and Virgil's behaviour, his brief dispute with Scott, and having to get his two younger brothers back here in one piece, he was definitely ready for his bed. By the time Gordon emerged from the bathroom, he was practically asleep and had to stop himself from dozing off. He stretched, with a yawn.

"Is he asleep?" Gordon gestured to Alan. The rise and fall of the blankets the only sign that there was life under the heap of cloth.

John shrugged. "I think so."

He went to go into the bathroom, but Gordon spoke again. "You okay?"

John looked back at the concern on the aquanauts face. "Yeah, just tired. Why?"

It was Gordon's turn to shrug. "You were a bit quiet tonight that's all. Something on your mind?"

John hesitated. He could tell Gordon everything, but he doubted that the redhead, even with the best intentions, would be able to keep it from Alan. And he agreed with Scott for now, Alan finding out was something they could do without. "No. Apart from the obvious." He smiled again. "Just tired." Gordon nodded, but John knew he wasn't convinced.

He went to go into the bathroom again, only for his brother to turn to him with that familiar mischievous grin on his lips. "Oh John, if I was you, I'd leave it in there for a while."

John scowled as he pulled a face, choking out, "That's disgusting." As he closed the door.

Gordon grinned as he made his way over to Alan's bed. "Al, you asleep?" He whispered. Loud enough to rouse his brother if he was dozing, but low enough not to disturb him if he wasn't.

"Yeah." Came the sleepy reply, from deep under several layers of blankets. "So don't wake me up."

Gordon's grin elicited a laugh. "Night then."

There was a grumble Gordon could only assume to be a reply and with a grin, he got himself into bed. He closed his eyes but John moving about in the bathroom prevented his from actually sleeping. He grinned to himself contently as he heard his older brother coughing and spluttering.

"Gordy?"

Gordon turned over, facing the muffled voice of his only younger brother. "I thought you were asleep." He frowned.

"I don't want you to go tomorrow." Alan whined. Gordon watched sadly, as the blankets shifted but his brother's face remained hidden. In the light emitted from under the bathroom door, you could just make out Alan's huddled up figure.

"I know you don't Al," Gordon smiled miserably; he hated the thought of leaving Alan tomorrow. Knowing just what he was leaving his younger brother here to face and helpless to support him from so far away, made him feel incredibly useless. It tore at his heart to know Alan needed him and that he wouldn't be able to be there to support him. "I don't want to leave you here either. But I have to, you know that, and you know that if I had a choice I'd be right here with you."

"Yeah I know." Alan sleepily admitted. It made Gordon feel a little better, that at least his brother understood his predicament. There was a pause, during which Gordon was sure Alan had fallen asleep. He was just about to turn over again, when Alan spoke once more. "I'll still miss you though, when you go back." Alan's voice was thick, low and disorderly; he was almost asleep.

Gordon smiled fondly as he turned over, pulling the covers up around him as if he could keep out the guilt he felt at leaving his brother behind. "I'll miss you too, Al." He admitted as he buried his head back into the pillows. Half through sheer exhaustion and half to rebuke his burning eyes, he closed the amber spheres tightly. Attempting to clear his mind, he hoped that sleep would soon take him away from this nightmare.


	21. Brother of Mine

Author's Note:  Many thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, as always they're greatly appreciated. Thank you, especially to MCJ for her insight into this one. Please continue to review; readers' thoughts and comments are invaluable - knowing the aspects that don't work as well as what does, is so important. Thank you.

Chapter 21 - Brother of Mine

Scott was in the kitchenette when his father returned. He watched the older man covertly as Jeff dumped a small bag on Sam's bed and surveyed the room. When it appeared Scott wasn't around, he turned to where Virgil slept. He watched his second son for a few moments before scanning the room again and walking over to the balcony doors, peering out. Scott felt it was time to make an appearance and stood in the main room.

"Looking for me?" He asked softly, Jeff turned to face him immediately. "Sorry, I was just getting a refill." He gestured to the glass of scotch he held in one hand.

Jeff nodded, though a worried frown crossed his features. There was obviously something on his eldest sons mind. "Are you okay Scott?"

Scott smiled. "Fine." He didn't pause, continuing quickly. "Do you want a nightcap?"

Jeff looked to the scotch glass in Scott's right hand and the bottle in his left, before glancing over to Virgil again. His worried frown deepened, his concern only increasing and he nodded. "Sure."

Scott poured him a glass of the amber liquid and gestured to the balcony, not wanting to disturb Virgil. Jeff followed him out through the glass doors and into the cooler air. A gentle breeze pulled at his shirt as he took the same pose as Scott; leaning against the wall. "Is everything okay Son?" Jeff asked after a long silence, during which Scott had failed to instigate conversation.

"Yeah." Scott didn't look at him, instead taking a gulp from the large amount of amber liquid that swirled around the glass he cradled.

"Virgil told me that things had been a bit strained between you two." Jeff ventured softly. He had always had a very close relationship with his eldest son, second only to Virgil. He watched Scott carefully, as he turned to face his father sharply. Scott's eyes widened in clear surprise that Virgil had been so candid with the older man. It appeared Scott's surprise at the revelation stunned him in to silence. "That is what we've come out here to talk about, isn't it?" Jeff frowned, wondering if there was something else. "Or is there something else?"

Scott turned back to the dark sky before he stared down to the ground. From the height they were at you could barely make out the streets below. The odd siren penetrated the quiet but that was all. Scott swirled the glass in his hands, waves of amber liquid rolled against the sides of the glass, like the sea in a storm. Not dissimilar to the stormy turmoil Scott felt inside. He gulped the liquid down in one sudden movement, taking himself and his father by surprise. Looking across to the balcony table where he'd placed the scotch bottle, he contemplated pouring another. He could do with a second refill.

"How many of those have you had tonight?"

Scott met his father's disapproving frown, stubbornly. "Just a few, I'm not drunk."

Jeff shook his head. "I'm not suggesting you are." No, he could see Scott wasn't drunk. The struggle to maintain his composure, and the way he seemed so hesitant, contrasting his usual confidence were sure signs that he was upset though. "But you want to talk about it; otherwise you wouldn't have asked me out here." Jeff concluded with fatherly shrewdness. "And you're not going to find a better offer at the bottom of that bottle."

"It was my fault." Scott admitted finally.

Jeff closed his eyes, sighing. He had dreaded hearing those words; it just confirmed his own suspicions.

"Scott," Jeff shuffled closer, placing a hand on his eldest son's shoulder as he spoke. "I know you feel responsible for your brothers, you always have." He paused for a few moments. "Maybe that's my fault. I put a lot of pressure on you as a child to care for them; maybe I relied on you too much." Scott squirmed uncomfortably under his father's judicious words. "The fact of the matter is Son, that they're all responsible for themselves now. You and me, we're not accountable for them anymore." Jeff paused again, feeling the waves of distress pour off his son. "What happened on that track was an accident Scott."

"I know that." Scott nodded, looking down at the empty glass in his hand and wishing he'd taken that second refill now. He didn't dare look at his father as he spoke the words he intended to. "I didn't mean the crash." He sighed, taking the time to pause and watch his father frown out the corner of his eye. "I meant Virgil. It was my fault Virgil passed out this afternoon." Though he daren't look, he could see Jeff's frown lift. He turned to face his father when the older man began to nod slowly in understanding.

"There was no door handle, was there?" Jeff asked his wide eyed son. Scott just shook his head, surprised that his father had known all along but hadn't said anything. "Virgil never has been a very good liar. So what really happened?"

Scott turned back to the starry sky. "We were arguing."

"Arguing?" Jeff asked, a raised eyebrow suggested he was more than a little surprised at this revelation. "Scott, Virgil said he was frustrated with you and that you were mad with him…. But arguing?"

Scott nodded, though frowned at his father's words. "Mad with him? I wasn't mad with him." He paused. "Not then anyway." His frown deepened, Jeff let him go on. It was rare Scott came to him with problems these days, rarer still that the problems involved Virgil. "I was so angry Dad." Scott confided as he shook his head. "Angry at him for saying things, angry at me because most of what he said was true…" He trailed off. "I wasn't thinking Father. I just reached out and…" He bowed his head remorsefully. "I grabbed his arm as he was walking away. He doubled over, and then his eyes rolled into the back of his head, like he was some dummy or something." Scott screwed his face up in disgust at the memory before he paused again. "I tried to catch him but I couldn't hold him."

"And you lied because you thought I'd be angry?" Jeff asked, attempting to stay calm.

"Virgil said you didn't need the extra stress." Scott shrugged, he picked at the brick he leant against. "Are you telling me you're not angry?"

"Oh I'm angry." Jeff assured him, with sentiment. "You're damned right I'm angry. You should never have lied to me." He said in a tone that Scott knew he shouldn't question. "That goes for him too." Scott watched his father wave a hand in Virgil's direction.

"Father, please don't be angry with Virgil. He was just doing what he thought was the right thing, trying to protect you. And me." Scott looked across at his father with pleading eyes.

"Protect you!" Jeff smirked incredulously. "Protect you from what?"

Scott bowed his head. "He knew you'd be angry with me, for hurting him like that. Dad, I swear I never meant to…"

"Oh Scott…" Jeff sighed, squeezing the younger mans shoulder before moving his hand up to the back of Scott's neck. "I know you'd never hurt any of your brothers deliberately. I'm angry that you lied to me, I don't need to be angry that you hurt him."

Scott frowned, clearly confused. "You don't?" He shook his head. "You're not going to tell me I'm selfish, and that I'm a terrible person for lashing out like that. Or that I don't deserve him or…"

"Scott, Scott." Jeff appeased the younger man's ongoing self-recrimination. "I don't have to be angry with you, and I don't have to tell you any of those things. Scott, I can see by just looking at you that you're punishing yourself much more than I ever could." Scott swallowed, looking to the floor. "Son, just remember that you're not going to find the answer at the bottom of that glass."

"I'm so sorry Dad." Scott mumbled. "I can't believe I hurt him like that…"

"Did you talk to him? Whilst I was in the bar?" When Scott nodded, Jeff went on. "And are things better now, between you?"

"Yeah, a lot better." Scott nodded. "We talked about everything."

"Good." Jeff smiled. "What you have with Virgil Son, that relationship, it's very special. You're very lucky to have him…"

"I know that Dad." Scott butted in. "I appreciate him."

"I know you do and I'm sure he knows that too." Jeff continued, a thoughtful smile on his lips. "You won't ever have a relationship like that with anyone else Scott. Cherish it and value it, Son. Because if this weekend's reminded us of anything, it's that life can be taken away so easily. We were so lucky that it wasn't Alan or Virgil, don't waste time arguing Son."

Scott just nodded, unsure what else to say or do. "I do value him Dad, he's my best friend. I just can't remember ever feeling that angry at him before."

Jeff chuckled. "How about when he painted that model of yours? You were pretty angry then, an old Tornado F4 wasn't it?"

Scott shook his head. "It was a Tiger Fighter," He smirked. "We were talking about that tonight actually; Virgil insists I threw a tantrum."

Jeff frowned. "If I remember correctly, Virgil insists right." He grinned as his son, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah but I don't want the kids to know that Dad." Scott protested. "You should have seen Alan and Gordon; they were laughing so hard I thought their sides were going to split. Even John was smirking at the idea of me being sent to bed with no supper." He paused reflectively. "Having said that, I think it's the first time I've seen Alan laugh in all the time we've been here."

Jeff smiled wistfully. "Good, I'm worried about him; how he's going to handle things at this hearing. He's can't be himself when there's all this hanging over him." He paused. "Don't get me wrong," He added quickly. "He's dealt with this really well, it's just…" He sighed. "Well, he's still so young, it's a lot for anyone to have to deal with but …" He trailed off again. "I suppose, deep down, in my eyes you'll always be my children first." After another pause, Jeff chuckled again. "Those were the days Son, weren't they?" He smiled as he thought back to Scott's words. "When the nearest we came to a serious accident was letting John anywhere near the kitchen."

Scott returned the smile, re-visiting memories of his own. "Or letting Virgil under the hood of my car."

They both grinned at the memories for more than a few minutes. Memories of a painful time for both of them, yet ironically such a happy time too.

"Do you think they'll ever get over this Scott?" Jeff's words sobered both their waning smiles.

"They're tough." Scott nodded, though in all honesty he felt he needed the reassurance too. "They're stronger than we give them credit for, both of them. Sure, it'll take time but they'll be okay."

"Hmm, yeah but do you think they'll ever get over it?" Jeff asked again, pensively looking out over the dark skies. The stars were shining brightly and he spoke absently as he studied the constellations.

"I don't think you ever get over something like that." Scott shrugged. "It's one of those things that'll stay with you all your life." He paused. "I guess you just learn to accept it. And we've dealt with worse, right?"

"Hmm." Hearing those words from Scott's lips brought him the reassurance he needed but he still felt he should be doing more. "I wish I could afford to take some vacation and spend some proper time with the both of them." Jeff confided longingly.

"Well, why don't you? Virgil could certainly use the help. He insists that he'll be fine and that he'll call if he has any problems. But I think he's going to struggle when he gets back to Denver." Scott questioned his father. If he couldn't support Virgil, their father was the next best thing. "And then there's Alan, it's going to take him a while to get over something like this."

"I can't Scott." Jeff shook his head. "You know how important this project is and it's just reaching the crucial stages, I can't disappear now. I spoke to Alan about coming to stay with me in New York; I want him nearby, not halfway across the country. Maybe I'll talk to Virgil too; he could always come stay for a while."

Scott shook his head. "No, he won't do that. He feels as if I'm mothering him as it is and he's got 'Dorothy Complex' too." Jeff nodded in comprehension, a grin pulling his lips into formation at the use of the childhood phrase.

"I guess we're just going to have to trust Alan and Sam to keep an eye on him then." Jeff added, in a tone that assured Scott it was something he wasn't happy about.

"I hate the thought of leaving him when he's sick like this." Scott confided softly. "He looks so vulnerable Dad." He shook his head at more memories as they replayed themselves. "I've already offered him the spare room at my apartment but he wasn't interested." Scott sighed. "It's not good for him to be on his own at a time like this Father, I wish there was some way I could be with him."

"Virgil might be stubborn Son, but he's not stupid. If he really needed help he'd ask for it." Jeff assured him. "Besides, you've done everything you can; it's up to Virgil now. And it's not like he'll be on his own completely Scott, we're not abandoning him; we'll all be calling him regularly."

"I know Dad." Scott sighed. "But it's not the same. Virgil's right, a video link isn't any substitute for the real thing." He ran a hand over his hair. "Being there in person, there's no comparison for that. I can't hold him from God knows how many miles away and tell him it'll be okay, I can't take him by the shoulders and remind him that he's got our support whatever happens."

Jeff was taken aback by the comment. "What do you mean Virgil's right?" He asked with a frown.

"This afternoon, he was saying about how much he was looking forward to this weekend. And how we hardly ever see each other anymore." Scott paused, not wanting to offend his father. "He thinks we're drifting apart and he's right Dad, we are." They both frowned. "I can't remember the last time all six of us were together, it must have been…" He racked his brains. "Alan's birthday, last year. He misses us all being together, so do I."

"I miss it too, Son." Jeff conceded. "You all lead busy lives but you're adults now Scott." Jeff smiled; sighing and allowing a brief silence to envelope them. "I was hoping to talk to you whilst you were all together this weekend. I'd even organised for a friend of mine to come over, but it didn't seem like the right time so…"

"Sounds important." Scott thought aloud with a suspicious frown. "Talk to us about what?"

"Just something I want to discuss with all of you." Jeff admitted vaguely.

"Has this got anything to do with this Special Project thing, because none of us really know anything about it." Scott was frowning again.

Jeff smirked in reply. "You're not supposed to." He said cryptically. "Look, I understand what Virgil's saying, so why don't we set aside a week in a couple of months time and get together then? You can visit the Island. I'm sure once you see it, you boys will love it."

"Oh, I see." Scott frowned deeply, nodding. "So as your friend can come and we can have this 'talk' you wanted to have this weekend?" He questioned suspiciously.

Jeff nodded. "I suppose." He smirked; sometimes Scott knew him too well.

"Dad, is everything alright?" Scott asked, anxious of his father's evasive behaviour. "You're not sick or anything are you?"

"No, no nothing like that." Jeff went to great pains to reassure his son's apprehensive expression quickly. "In fact quite the opposite, I've got a proposal for each of you that would give you cause to spend a lot more time together."

Scott frowned; his sleepy brain barely understood just what his father was saying, he felt slightly confused at the outcome of this conversation. "Dad…" He began to question but was cut off.

"It'll all be clear soon enough." Jeff smiled. "You look tired Son, it's been a long day and you've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow too. Why don't you get off to bed?"

Scott felt himself nod in reply but wasn't really sure why. His father's words had thoroughly confused him and he had so many questions. Yet he was just too tired to vocalise them at this moment in time. There was also the fact that his father's clear reluctance to reveal all riled him slightly. "Father, what's going on?"

Jeff rubbed his shoulder. "Be patient Scott." He smiled again. "Come on." He placed a hand round Scott's shoulders and led him back into their hotel room, picking up the half empty bottle of scotch as he went.

"Good night Son." Jeff smiled as he took a few things out of the bag he'd brought with him and disappeared into the bathroom. Leaving a confused Scott Tracy still processing his words.

The door clicked closed behind his father and Scott shook himself, clearing his head and clambering into bed inattentively. Their father was sometimes very cryptic when it came to business; it was often something he played close to his chest. There was something about his manner tonight though, and the way he spoke so significantly, that troubled Scott. He tried to shake it off, but the secrecy regarding this Special Project business was little short of annoying and he resolved to discuss the matter with Virgil; see what he made of it.

Finally, he set his 'phone to vibrate and wake him up when his brother was due his next dose of medication, before settling down under the covers of his own bed.

He was sound asleep by the time Jeff emerged, instigating a warm smile from the older man as he made his way to Sam's bed. Jeff pulled the covers back and let his tired body fall back against the comfort of the soft mattress and pillows. He couldn't turn off the way his mind kept going over everything and for a few moments, he just lay there thinking. Eventually he turned to check both his sons were sleeping and reached for the light switch.

"Night boys, sweet dreams." He whispered, as he plunged the room into darkness.

XxxxX

Meanwhile Gordon lay awake, and had done for the passed two hours. Releasing a harassed sigh, he turned over to face the ceiling, biting his lip and resisting the urge to glance at the clock again. He was dreading tomorrow… today he corrected himself mentally. He dreaded having to turn his back on his brother and most of all he dreaded the moment when he knew he'd have to. The moment when he'd have to leave his brother on the remote, cold, hard concrete of an airport runway. He was already running through how he'd respond to Alan's reluctance for him to go. _'You don't need me here Al, you'll be fine.' 'I'll be thinking about you, I promise.' _And, _'You've got Dad and Virg, what would you need me for anyway?' _ Picturing his brother's face as he said those words, he knew tomorrow would be one of the most difficult things he would ever have to do in his life; or so he thought. He sighed again.

"Would you please stop doing that?"

The voice startled Gordon and he turned over quickly to find two crystal blue eyes staring back at him. "John!" He exclaimed. "You made me jump, I thought you were asleep."

"Yeah well I was. Unlike sleeping beauty over there, I'm finding it kind of hard now." John smirked sarcastically in the darkness. "It's a bit difficult y'know? What with you huffing and puffing every five minutes."

"Yeah, well we don't all need as much beauty sleep as you John." Gordon replied cheekily. The comment was followed by a childish scoff and the sound of Gordon giggling over enthusiastically; a sure sign that he was worried. Gordon often used humour to mask his insecurities; it was a trait he'd picked up as a child. Though he rarely managed to fool John, it didn't stop him trying. "I don't want to be the one responsible for you losing your boyish good looks through lack of sleep." He sighed, but in reality his smile was fading fast. "Night John."

"Night." Came the sleepy reply.

"Hey John?" The blonde brother's respite didn't last long; a few minutes maximum. "You know it won't make much difference anyway. None of the blondes in this family are good looking, never where. Ask Grandma, she says Grandpa was a blonde and you just have to see the photos to see he was butt ugly. It must be like a genetic throwback thing, if you're blonde you're not that great in the looks department …"

"Gordon…" John tried to interrupt him but failed. He wriggled further down the bed in order to avoid Gordon's mumbling but couldn't bring himself to actually ignore his brother, when he so obviously had something on his mind.

"Grandma says that's how come I'm a redhead. Remember when Danny Mathews told me it was impossible, and that I must be adopted? I was like twelve, and I believed him! Well, I asked her and she told me that it's because of this genetic throwback thing. I never really understood it, it's more your kind of thing, y'know all about science and …"

"Gordon!" John groaned. Scott often thought that his younger brothers didn't communicate amongst themselves and only ever came to him with their problems. It was at times like this John wished he was right. The reason that Gordon and Alan, or even Virgil on extremely rare occasions, came to him was usually that the thought of telling Scott was too much like telling their father. Virgil was always a good option, but there was forever the risk that the sensible side of him would confess anything major to their big brother. Hence, John had dealt with more than his fair share of problems in the past, and by no means small ones; he knew when he was needed. Despite the fact that his body, and the bedside clock, told him it was time to sleep, there was a little voice in the back of his head that told him now was one of those times. He turned over in his bed, with sullen acceptance. "You're worried about leaving him tomorrow, aren't you?" He guessed perceptively.

Gordon sighed. "I was babbling, wasn't I?" He winced, looking into the darkness and guessing that's how John knew.

"Just a bit." John replied sarcastically. "Want to talk about it?"

"No, it's okay." Gordon shrugged. "I don't want to keep you up; you need your beauty sleep, remember?" He joked lamely. The silence that followed suggested that the younger man was trying to get back to sleep. John however, knew otherwise and didn't move. Sure enough, after a few minutes Gordon continued. "I'm dreading it John." He groaned glumly, turning over to face his blonde brother.

John had to chuckle, despite himself. "Yeah, me too." The blonde brother admitted seriously. "It's not fair, us having to go back." He chose his words carefully, knowing that's how Gordon would feel, yet at the same time not being able to fully understand either.

"You're telling me." Gordon grimaced. "He doesn't deserve this John." He mused. "I know he can be an ass sometimes, I mean I'm his brother I know he can be ass… but this?" He sighed heavily. "I'm going to hate myself for not staying here." He hesitated. "Especially when I know he wants me to stay, needs me to stay."

"It's not like you've got a choice Gordy." John nestled into the pillows. At first he thought his younger brother just needed a bit of reassurance but the more this conversation progressed the more he realised it was more than that. A suspicious frown settled on his face at Gordon's tone of voice. "Is it?"

"No." The redhead sighed, equally glum as he was before. "Not really…" He trailed off with a shrug.

"Gordon?" John prodded himself up, suspicious of his brother's hesitation. He had plenty of experience in knowing when this particular brother was planning something.

"Don't take that tone with me." Gordon replied testily.

"Tone?" John frowned, "What tone?"

"That tone!" He paused, trying to vocalise what he wanted to say. "That authoritative 'you've got to tell me' tone." Gordon defended. "You think you're Scott or something?" He shook his head, though John couldn't see it. "You're not Scott; I don't have to tell you anything!"

John sighed. "Fine," He pulled the covers round him as he turned over. "Don't tell me."

A few more minutes silence followed.

"Would it be so bad if I didn't go back?" John was unsurprised as the fact his brother had spoken again. However, he was thankful that Gordon couldn't see his expression when he uttered those words. He was pretty sure his eye brows hit the headrest of his bed. Gordon continued, obliviously. "I mean, if the weather was bad or I was sick or something, then I wouldn't be going back." Gordon seemed to hesitate. "Right?"

"Gords," John blew a breath out slowly, not sure where to start. "I know you don't want to leave him, I don't either, but going AWOL's a bit extreme isn't it? I mean, you'd be facing disciplinary proceedings wouldn't you?"

Gordon nodded absently before releasing John couldn't see him. "Yeah, but it'd be worth it. He'd do it for me."

"Gordon…" John exhaled in shock. "You can't be serious…"

"You're sounding like Scott again." Gordon warned before he went on. "You don't realise how cut up he is about all this John." He frowned. "He really needs me here, I don't think I can get on that plane tomorrow and let him down again." He shook his head, turning briefly to face Alan's sleeping form before looking in John's direction again.

"Again?" John was questioning. "Gordon, you've never let him down before." He knew there were things Gordon had told him, that he hadn't told Scott or Virgil. Suddenly, he wondered if it worked both ways.

"Yeah I have." Came the sad reply. "I do it all the time. I can't watch him race because I have to work, I can't come home because I have to work, he can't come and stay with me because I have to work." He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "You're the scientist John, can you see a pattern?" He let his arm flop over his eyes and groaned. "It's not fair." He repeated.

"Life's not fair Gords, he understands that you've got to work." John frowned as he realised how deep his brother's sense of guilt went. He adjusted the pillows that propped him up against the wooden headboard.

"That's a Virgil-ism." Gordon scoffed.

"A what?" John frowned.

"Y'know, all that insightful crap." He sighed. "Life's not fair." He repeated with a groan of exasperation. "I mean, who said that? Obviously, life's not fair! Just take a look at our family history, its obvious life isn't fair. I don't need reminding!"

"Gordon…" John didn't need to say anymore.

"I'm babbling again aren't I?" The redhead sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Were you serious about not going back?" John's question was met with only silence. "Gords?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking!" Gordon took in a deep breath. "Geez, you're getting impatient like Scott too." He grumbled, before he groaned dramatically. "Oh, I wish I could be, John." The reply came from the shadows once more. "I'd lose the command post, that doesn't bother me." He shrugged. "But the reprimand," He shook his head. "It'd be the beginning of the end of my career, for sure."

"So it's not an option, then." John concluded, breathing a sigh of relief. Scott would have a fit if he knew they were talking about this, and so too would their father.

"There are always options John." Gordon said softly.

"Gordy, Al wouldn't thank you for sacrificing your career so as you can sit by him in the hearing." John's frown didn't lift. "You can't be serious, you love what you do." The idea that Gordon had even entertained these ideas surprised him and troubled him at the same time. "I know you'd give it all up for him if you had to, but Alan wouldn't want you to make that kind of a sacrifice. He's going to be okay. Have a little faith." Gordon let out a sudden, short burst of laughter. "Shh!" John hissed. "What?"

"That's exactly what I told him this afternoon – have some faith." He shook his head at the irony. "John, we've all spent so much time convincing each other that he'll be okay. Has anyone actually thought about what's really going to happen on Wednesday?"

"You mean tomorrow." John replied sombrely. "What's going to happen is Al's going to be cleared of culpability so he'll be able to get on with his life."

"You really think it's that simple?" Gordon became hesitant. "It's going to take more than that. I don't think you guys realise how much this has affected him. He's devastated at the fact that someone died. Period. This investigation; that's just the catalyst."

"You're underestimating him." John moaned as he made himself comfortable against the pillows, suppressing a yawn. "He's come through it okay so far. He's doing great." He hesitated. "I thought you of all people would understand how much he needs to do this, without being mollycoddled like a child."

"No John, you're wrong." Gordon said adamantly. "He isn't dealing with this half as well as you think he is. He feels responsible, he's convinced the investigation team have got it in for him, and the more Virgil lays the guilt trip, the more he beats himself up about it."

John frowned at the bitterness with which Gordon spoke. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing." Gordon swatted a hand that John couldn't see. "Forget it. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said that. I'm tired and I don't mean it how it sounds."

"So how do you mean it then?" The blonde brother frowned.

"It's just …" Gordon clearly struggled. "Virgil was fine this morning, why did Scott make such a big deal about not going out last night?" He sighed. "I'm sure Virg could have made it downstairs to the bar, or something. He made Al feel really guilty."

"Gordy, it's not that simple." John defended his oldest brother. "Scott's just looking out for Virgil."

"Yeah and I'm just looking out for Al!" Gordon exclaimed in a whisper. "He feels bad enough because Virg is hurt already, without Scott making it worse." He came to a halt. Feeling the waves of tension coming from his blonde brother, he sat up in his bed. In a lot of ways John could be similar to Scott when it came to these types of conversation. However, unlike Scott, with John you always knew what he was thinking.

"You know something." Gordon concluded, astutely. "What's going on?"

"Gordy…"

"I know you know something." Gordon pushed the covers back. Walking in the direction of John's bed, he took cautious steps until he could see his brothers outline in the shadows. "Tell me John." He ordered as he sat down. When John remained silent, he scoffed. "You can't. Because there is no reason for Scott to be acting like a jerk. Al's feeling the pressure right now. We're his family; we should be supporting him. Trying to protect him from it, not exposing him to more."

John remained calm in the face of Gordon's rising annoyance. "Scott is trying to protect him Gords." He hesitated. Gordon's sense of duty was as strong as Scott's at times, and somehow John knew he wouldn't be pacified.

"I don't see how." The aquanaut grumbled. "Alan's career's on the line here and he's hurt too. The way Scott was going on tonight, he seems to think that just because Virgil's got a few more bruises he deserves all the sympathy."

"It's a bit more complex than that." John replied tightly, a little uncomfortable. He hunkered down into the pillows and let his eyes drift closed.

Gordon groaned. "I don't mean this how it's coming out. It's late and I'm too tired for diplomacy. I know Virgil's hurt and I know it's more than a few bruises but…"

"I know what you're saying." John sighed. "You're right, it's late. Go back to bed, huh?" He tried to conceal his fatigue from his brother; however, the words still sounded like a plea.

"I don't know what the matter with Scott is recently." Gordon continued, ignoring John's last comment. "First he was fussing round Alan, not letting anyone else get close. Now, he's doing the exact same thing with Virgil."

"He's got good reason Gords, trust me." John smiled half heartedly. "Now, let's try and get some sleep."

"What good reason?" Gordon asked, determined not to let the subject drop.

"If I tell you, you don't say a word to anyone, you hear me? Especially not Alan." Gordon nodded and John thought he heard a serious 'Okay' escape the younger man's lips, at his stern tone. "Virgil passed out this afternoon." He blurted out with an exhausted sigh. "Can we go back to sleep now?"

"What?" Gordon exclaimed. "What do you mean passed out?"

John shrugged sleepily. "I mean he passed out. Fainted. Call it what you like, apparently he was out cold."

Gordon sat wide eyed for a while, before uttering a reaction. "Jesus!" He exclaimed. "Why didn't anyone say anything? He seemed okay… is he?"

John nodded. "Yeah, of course he is. He's fine, just needs to rest. I don't think Scott or Virg wanted Alan to find out. They know how bad he feels already." John purposely phrased his sentences. "They were trying to protect him." He told his redhead brother with a yawn.

Gordon sighed, running a hand over his face then his hair. "Poor Virgil, I had no idea. I'd never have said…" He sighed again in despair. "What a mess John."

"Yeah." The blonde agreed, tiredly. His eyelids dropping as he yawned yet again.

"Alan'd be devastated if he ever knew." Gordon sighed. "I guess I can see why they decided not to tell him." Gordon paused, letting the information sink in. John took the time to let his eyes close. "I wish I could stay until Wednesday. If Virgil's sick, Alan's going to need the extra support." Gordon mused.

"Uh huh." John filled in sleepily.

"He can get so wound up sometimes that anything you say'll get his back up." Gordon carried on despite John's lack of input. "He's going to work himself into a real state on Wednesday, and I'm going to be so damned far away I won't be able to do anything about it!" He growled. "It's so frustrating!" He exclaimed with a sigh before pausing thoughtfully. "I know Scott and Virg are hiding it for Alan's sake, but do you really think it's such a good idea? I mean, do you think they'll be able to keep something like that from him? Especially when Al's the closest one to Virg, distance-wise I mean." He looked expectantly across to his blonde brother only to find John's head had lolled to one side. "John?" He queried. "John?" He asked again, leaning closer. "Scott wouldn't fall asleep on me." He tried to provoke a reaction but none came. "Night John." He sighed.

He got up, careful not to disturb his older brother, and made his way over to his bed to settle down. It was a few more hours before sleep claimed him. Guilt at the situation with Alan and guilt at his own attitude towards his two eldest brothers kept him awake. His tired mind worked over the evening's events, slowly putting everything into perspective. Eventually his mind worked its way full circle and he started to wonder what he would say to Alan again, bracing himself to cause that distraught expression. In less than six hours, he confirmed as he glanced at the clock, he would be leaving his brother behind to face an uncertain future. Somehow, his conversation with John had done nothing to reassure him he was doing the right thing.

XxxxX

Scott startled, his eyes bursting open and his breath coming short and sharp. He forced himself to take a few minutes, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness and the mild sounds about the room; his father's gentle snoring and the ticking of clocks. Systematically, he convinced himself that he was safe in the hotel room and that it really was just a dream. He let his tense, half propped up body relax into the pillows with a sigh. For the sake of his own assurance though, he turned over on the mattress wrapping the covers around him as he went.

However, the sight that was supposed to bring him comfort only caused his breath to falter. The bed in which he expected to find his brother sleeping soundly, was empty. Moreover, the tangled covers and scattered pillows divulged a tale of restless sleep. He glanced around in the darkness, pushing himself up and eagerly scrutinizing the room for evidence of his brother's presence.

When his sleepy mind had processed the fact that his brother wasn't in the room, he thrust the covers away hastily and sat up. He shivered slightly as the chill of the fresh breeze hit his bare chest. Shaking himself, he pushed himself to his feet, rubbing at his eyes and suppressing a yawn. The more of his skin exposed to the darkness, the more he felt the draught of cooler air. He frowned into the eerie shadows of the room to discover its source. Spotting the balcony doors ajar, he rubbed both hands over his face and he blinked. He was unsure whether the goose bumps that were breaking out were a result of the fading images of the nightmare, the breeze that heavily contrasted the warmth of his bed or the sinking feeling in his gut that Virgil was nowhere to be seen. Nonetheless, he grasped the extra blanket at the foot of his bed and wrapped it round his shoulders in a feeble attempt to suppress it. Padding across the room, he weaved around the various chairs and tables whilst simultaneously checking for any signs that Virgil was there. With a determination that threatened the growing panic in his gut, his headed across to the balcony doors. Glancing as he did, across to the bathroom and kitchenette doors for any signs of light.

He shivered once more as he grasped the door handles, intent to pull them closed. Presuming that he'd left the doors open after speaking with his father, he was somewhat taken aback by the vision that greeted him as he glanced out onto the balcony. Scott hesitated, his hands still on either door handle as the scene impacted on his brain. He could only stare in disbelief at what his eyes were telling him. His frown deepened in a horrible mix of sympathy and sadness, and he closed his eyes tightly as he bowed his head.

Stood at the far end of the balcony, against the brick wall was the object of his futile search. Virgil stood with his back to the doors, facing the skyline. One hand remained wrapped around his chest, supporting his ribs; the other, held his bowed head. It wasn't so much the sight that made Scott feel so hopeless but the sounds that the small gap in the doors brought to his ears. Sounds that conveyed how Virgil felt, much more adequately than any words could.

At first, he was unable to really comprehend the scene. And then, as comprehension came, so did the awful realisation that he was facing a terrible dilemma. His mind worked overtime to consider what he should do. There had been a time when he would have had no qualms about striding over to his brother and wrapping his arms round him, in a gesture of support. However, he was reminded of Virgil's strong sense of pride, and wondered briefly what he'd expect him to do should the situation be reversed. Deliberating over whether to save his brother's pride and go back to bed, or to approach him and offer what small comfort he could. Scott's hand reached up to push the doors open and step out onto the balcony, as many times as they dropped back to his side in defeat.

Eventually, he couldn't bear the sound of his brother in so much distress any longer, and stepped out. He shivered; the air, though not cold, was considerably cooler then that inside the room. Several times as he padded slowly across the cold concrete floor, he considered turning back and saving Virgil's dignity. He glanced longingly at the doors but he knew he couldn't. He just couldn't turn his back now, not with what he knew, not with the tortured sounds that continued to greet his ears. As he got closer, he knew he'd made the right decision. As uncomfortable as this was going to be for the both of them, it was the right thing to do.

Virgil's chest heaved with the pressure, his head and shoulders rising and falling unevenly. He was so absorbed he didn't hear Scott come up behind him; he continued, oblivious to any other presence.

The chill that ran down Scott's spine continuously, he was sure, was not due to the cool air. Tugging the blanket round his shoulders a little tighter, Scott mirrored his treatment of the balcony doors as he stood directly behind his brother. Several times he reached both his hands up to Virgil's trembling shoulders before, several times, he dropped them to his side. Taking a deep breath, he hesitantly laid his hands on the top of his brother shoulders. He was unsurprised when Virgil flinched. The touch startled him and he immediately blinked, trying to control his breathing in an effort to calm himself.

"It's okay," Scott whispered as he leant into his brother's shoulder. "It's me." He moved his hands in a circular motion; rubbing the tops of Virgil's arms, more to provide support than generate heat.

Virgil made no comment. He shrugged Scott's hands off almost immediately and determinedly faced ahead, desperately trying to compose himself. He blinked to dispel the cloudy moisture, using the palms of his hands to rub a little too hard at his eyes, and he sniffled. Scott couldn't see his face, but he didn't need to. Virgil swallowed, embarrassed and humiliated in the knowledge he could never convince Scott he was okay now.

As if reading his mind, the older brother went on. "Are you okay?" Scott kept his voice low and soft, in an attempt to be compassionate. He bit his lips together, awaiting some kind of response.

Despite Virgil shrugging his hands away, Scott had made no effort to lengthen the short distance between them. As he spoke, Virgil could feel the heat of his breath behind him and suddenly felt uncomfortably claustrophobic. He tried to shrug it off, but the proximity between them made him feel as though he was slowly suffocating; overwhelmed by Scott's concern. Having not replied, Scott was halfway through raising his hand back to his brother's shoulder. Virgil sensed the movement and turned his head slightly to Scott's voice. It had the desired effect; Scott's hand hovered where it was before dropping back to his side.

"What's…" Virgil trailed off at the sound of his own voice before swallowing and taking a deep breath. He struggled to sound more collected when he spoke again. "What's Dad doing in there?"

The question took Scott by surprise but he sighed nonetheless. He knew when he father had suggested the idea that Virgil would dislike it, especially now he knew how smothered his brother already felt.

"I'm sorry." Scott breathed, truly remorsefully. "I tried to talk him out of it; I knew you wouldn't like it. But you know what he's like when he's got an idea in his head." Virgil felt the movement of air as his brother shook his head sadly. "He's worried about you." Scott stopped himself adding that he wasn't the only one.

Virgil nodding, in acceptance of the comment. "Yeah." He mused as he turned back to staring out at the dark skies.

Scott found himself frowning at his brother's abrupt despondency. He bowed his head, noting how the shaking he had attributed to distress, remained.

"Virgil you're shaking." Scott said as he shrugged off the blanket around his shoulders. "Here." He began to wrap it around the younger man's shoulders but Virgil batted his hands away, taking over the task for himself. Deflated, Scott took a step back, much to Virgil's relief. Despite pulling the blanket tight around his shoulders, Virgil shivered and grumbled inaudibly. "What was that Virg?"

"I said it's not because of the cold." Virgil told him louder, but a little gruffly.

Scott frowned at the blunt content and brusque tone, again feeling inadequate. And again, letting his head drop.

A long thoughtful pause followed.

"Let's go inside." Scott suggested eventually. The younger man was clearly reluctant. "Virg?" A hand on his brother's back was enough to get Virgil moving. Silently, they both made their way into the warmth of the hotel room.

As Scott turned back to close the doors, Virgil made his way over to his bed. "Virgil," Scott signalled to the couch, keeping his voice low so as not to wake their father. "You want to talk?" He suggested. An uncharacteristic amount of indecision in his voice.

Virgil was half way to his bed and glanced across at their father. "I don't want to wake him." He replied softly, shaking his head.

Scott became stern. "So we'll talk quietly." He looked his brother in the eye. "Sit down." His tone caused Virgil to wonder if it was ever a question. He looked longingly at his bed, before turning back to his brother and walking slowly across to the couch. Dreading what was to follow.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" Scott asked, eyeing the scotch bottle that had been left on the table. Glancing at his watch told him he couldn't have one even if he wanted to. Somehow, that knowledge just made the temptation worse. When Virgil shook his head, Scott eyed the kettle with distaste. "No, me neither." He muttered, taking his seat.

For a few seconds as he got himself comfortable, he studied his brother. Virgil tensely sat on the very edge of the sofa, as if he was afraid to relax into it. He held on to the blanket around his shoulders with white knuckles, cocooning himself away from the world. If Scott was honest to himself, as he relaxed into the plush cushions; tucking one leg under the other and stretching his arm out along the headrest. The air of vulnerability that clung to Virgil in that moment, hurt him more than anything his brother had said to him earlier.

Stealing himself to make the first move, Scott sighed. "What were you doing out there?" He asked as he absently picked at the chair arm.

The blankets moved as Virgil shrugged. "Don't know." He said softly. "Thinking, I guess." He said vaguely, as he swallowed. "Yeah, thinking." He said with a little more certainty, as if he'd only just decided.

"What about?" Scott frowned.

Virgil could feel him scrutinising his every movement. He shrugged again. "Alan, Wednesday, y'know? Just stuff." He knew Scott would ask him to explain and so he spoke again, not giving his brother the chance. "It's so quiet out there. You wouldn't think we're above one of the biggest cities in this country, would you?" He turned his head in Scott's direction but didn't actually look at him. "You can think so clearly, it's peaceful." He said as he briefly let his gaze rise to meet his brothers. Scott's expression told him exactly what his brother was thinking. Virgil scoffed a bitter laugh in response. "Don't panic Scott." He grinned with contempt. "I wasn't going to throw myself off."

"Don't joke about it." Scott replied seriously. The sombre current to his voice, caused Virgil to stare back at him dubiously. "It's not funny."

"Look, I didn't mean to wake anybody else." Virgil's tone remained apologetic however his eyes portrayed a defensiveness Scott rarely saw in his usually confident brother.

"You didn't wake me." Scott sighed heavily. He waited to see if Virgil would face him again, before he spoke. Still, the younger man remained poised on the edge of his seat, tensely staring ahead. "I had a bad dream." Slowly, as Scott had expected, Virgil turned to face him with startled eyes. The older man shook his head. "Keep seeing that body." He paused to frown and bite the inside of his cheek. "Only in my dreams it isn't Mark Jamison." He purposely met Virgil's gaze and held it as he spoke again. "It's you."

As his words registered, Virgil looked away. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, barely audible.

"Why?" Scott smiled, shifting his position. "It's not your fault." When it became obvious Virgil had no reply to that and indeed had no intention to speak again, Scott went on. "Virgil, did you have a nightmare too?"

Virgil didn't look back at him, just stared ahead vacantly. "It was different." He said softly.

"The dream was different?" Scott frowned. He leant forward, attempting to get closer to Virgil but it didn't seem to affect his brothers concentration, or lack thereof.

"No." Virgil scoffed another ironic laugh. "The dream's always the same. My reaction to it was different."

"How do you mean different?" Scott continued to coax him with questions.

"Before, I'd wake up and I'd be in such a state, it was pathetic." Virgil swallowed. "I was pathetic. I'd feel guilty, ashamed that I didn't do more, inadequate." His voice wavered as he shook his head. "Tonight… Tonight, it's as if someone's just taken all that away; there's just this … void. I … I feel empty, hollow."

Scott licked his lips, unsure how he should respond. Irresolute as to whether the words of comfort he could offer would make any difference; he reached out a hand to Virgil's shoulder. "Virg…" He trailed off.

When Virgil knocked his comforting hand away yet again, Scott let out a frustrated sigh. He sat back, breathing through clenched teeth to control his irritation and looked away. He wasn't well known for having any vast amount of patience. However, when it came to Virgil, he always tried to keep his cool that bit longer. Right now, Virgil was pushing him further than that patience would stretch.

"Don't." The younger man wriggled uncomfortably, but Scott's hand remained. The comfort it had intended to provide was now forgotten and Virgil found a firm grip on his arm.

"Don't?" Scott questioned. "For crying out loud Virgil!" He snapped irritably. "Stop pushing me away!" Scott sighed again, controlling his angry outburst. "I thought we talked this through." He spoke much calmer. "I thought you understood; you can't keep punishing yourself like this."

Virgil pulled his arm away with a jolt and a resultant wince. "I'm not!" He exclaimed, a little too loudly.

Both of them looked up as they heard their father stir. Suddenly the air held a new tension and the brothers released identical heavy sighs of relief when the older man settled back into sleep, unperturbed.

Virgil squeezed his eyes closed. "Scott when I get back to Denver, you're not going to be there in the middle of the night."

"I could be." Scott told him softly. "I could be there, if you'd let me."

Scott saw his brother hesitate and shuffled forward, he was about to speak again when Virgil marginally beat him to it. "I don't need you to hold my hand Scott; I'm a grown man. I can do this." His voice betrayed the uncertainty of that comment, despite its literary absolution.

"Can you?" Scott watched his brother as he uttered those words with so little faith.

"Yes!" Virgil snapped back. His voice rose and his head snapped round to face his older brother with fury. Suddenly his chest was tightening and he began to breathe faster to compensate. Feeling the familiar rush of emotions, he turned his face away from Scott. He leant forward in despair, and placed his head in his hands, breathing deeply. The movement sent the blanket that had provided that extra protection, plummeting to the seat behind him. The final of his barriers to break down.

Scott shook his head sadly. "I know you can." He told Virgil, conveying the abundance of faith he had in his brother. "But you don't have to." He sighed as he mirrored Virgil's position; leaning forward. He reached his hand out to his brother's back, pleased when Virgil didn't flinch away. He purposely let his hand rest there for a while, trying to provide a tangible reminder that he wasn't alone.

Virgil rubbed at his face, trying to keep it together. Trying to ignore what he knew Scott was attempting to do. As he'd anticipated, after a short pause, Scott's hand snaked up to his shoulder and he felt his brother lean into him.

"Come on." Scott whispered as he secured a firm grip on his brother's shoulder, guiding him back. Virgil was apprehensive but he didn't trust himself to speak or move. He concentrated on gathering his shattered thoughts and trying to appear as natural as possible, despite every muscle in his body straining at the task. Tensely, he let Scott pull him until his head was leaning on the back of the couch.

As they'd grown up, the times when they'd accepted the need for physical comfort had grown fewer and farther apart, and they'd both learned to support themselves. The fulfilment they'd gotten from a comforting embrace as children had become uncomfortable into their teens. Now hugging had become something accompanied with a farewell pat on the back; a brief contact that was reserved for airports or monorail platforms. Nevertheless, Virgil couldn't help but feel some kind of deep need or unfathomable knowledge, that Scott's strong arms around him would chase away the after effects of the nightmare that still lingered. Easing this sensation of being adrift and vulnerable.

He was torn between the knowledge that Scott could soothe his troubled soul, and a typical masculine need to protect his dignity; to not let anyone know how he really felt. Scott's hand rubbed reassuringly at the top of his arm and before Virgil had really thought about it, he found Scott's hand resting against his face. Confidently manoeuvring his head until it rested in the crook of his brother's shoulder.

Despite his feelings of unease, a sigh of relief escaped Virgil from deep inside. He relaxed into the hold entirely; letting the comfort and reassurance he had previously denied himself, wash over him with contentment. For his part, Scott rested his head on top of where his brothers nestled against his shoulder, sighing his own breath or relief though for different reasons.

Scott was surprised when Virgil sniffled, shifting slightly he broke the content silence. "I really hate you sometimes, you know?" He felt Scott's chest shudder as the older man scoffed a laugh. Nothing could be further from the truth than those words. And both of them knew it.

"Yeah I know." Scott grinned, appreciating Virgil's choice of vocabulary. Virgil had a unique way of understanding him and his discomposure when it came to his emotions; a connection he felt he had with no-one else. "Sometimes, I hate you too."

Virgil smiled in response as Scott pulled the blanket up to cover both of them. Along with the comforting warmth, he allowed the sense of ease he felt to consume him; slowly accepting that his eyes were closing with or without his consent. Scott listened for the change in his breathing that would tell him his brother had settled and sure enough after a few minutes, it came. It was only when he was sure Virgil was comfortable and peacefully sleeping, that he tightened his hold somewhat. Burying his face into Virgil's hair and closing his eyes, he placed a single soft kiss on his brother's scalp.

And then, glancing across at his sleeping father, he could have sworn he saw an eyelid move … and the contented smile on his lips, disappear...


	22. Judgement Day

Author's Note:  Many thanks to all those who have reviewed the last chapter, we're finally approaching the finish line (no pun intended) as this is the penultimate chapter. I can not express how helpful reviews are for an author who is wanting to know the strengths and weaknesses of her writing; so please don't hesitate to drop me a line and let me know your thoughts – either way.

Also, I just wanted to take the time to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Thanks again.

Chapter 22 - Judgement Day

Jeff Tracy began to frown. He knocked on the hotel room door his youngest son occupied once more and once more, his knocking was to no avail. He was not used to being kept waiting for anything, particularly when it came to his sons. However, given the situation; his irritation was fast morphing into worry. An anxious feeling circled the pit of his stomach as he restlessly, clenched his hand and unclenched it. He knocked again, this time firmer and brisker. When he received no reply yet again, he balanced the tray he held carefully to reach into his trouser pocket. Fishing out the key card Gordon had asked him to hand in at reception, he let himself in. For once, thankful of his second youngest son's chaotic, last minute preparation.

He carried the tray carefully, as he made his way inside. Thick curtains darkened the room and it appeared gloomy and dim. "Alan?" Jeff called as he ventured inside, putting the tray down on the nearest table. He almost jumped at the shadow that appeared in the corner of his eye.

"Dad?" Alan took a deep breath as he stepped into the room from the bathroom. He wrapped his arms around his chest in an effort to repress the churning in his stomach. "You made me jump." He told his father, swallowing back the bitter after taste that lingered in his mouth

"Alan, you look awful Son." Jeff exclaimed, as he eyed the young blonde up and down. His hair stuck up on end, in various directions and the dark circles under his eyes told of a sleepless night. His white, freshly pressed shirt blended into his complexion, to the point where Jeff wondered where his shirt stopped and his skin started. But what was most alarming was the way his eyelids dropped so frequently, masking the dull, desolate blue orbs that were usually so bright and full of life. "Did you get any sleep last night?" Jeff frowned in concern.

Alan shrugged as he walked over to the table and sat down, putting his head in his hands. "Woke up at three, couldn't get back to sleep after that."

Jeff frowned. "Son, you should have woken me." He walked over to the balcony doors. "You shouldn't have been stuck in here on your own." He reached out to grip the curtains.

"Dad, don't…" Looking up, Alan trailed off with a wince as Jeff pulled the curtains open. Light flooded the room, and Alan brought up an arm to cover his sensitive eyes as stabbing pains cut into his head. He leant forward, putting his elbows on the table again and letting his head flop into his hands, with a groan.

Jeff frowned back at him, taking the seat alongside him. "Son?" He placed a reassuring hand on Alan's shoulder, whilst pushing the tray across the table. "I've brought you up some breakfast; I thought you might need something to settle your nerves."

Alan looked across at his father, still grimacing at the bright light and squinting to see. "I'm not really hungry Dad; to be honest I don't feel too good."

"Hmm," Jeff nodded. "I thought as much, maybe this'll change your mind." He reached for the heatproof cover, removing it despite Alan's protests.

"Dad I…" The smell hit him with the all the power of a tornado. He breathed deeply in an attempt to stop his stomach churning ominously, but it had little effect. His cheeks still prickled with the bitter aftertaste of last time and when he looked down, the sight of the food was the last straw. He felt himself shiver as the bile rose to his throat and goose bumps broke out all over his body. "Urgh." He groaned as he clapped a hand over his mouth and rushed back to the bathroom, only just making it in time.

"Alan!" Jeff rushed after him. Shrugging off his jacket as he went, and throwing it onto the tangled sheets that had been Alan's bed. He entered the bathroom to find his youngest son being fiercely sick.

Alan barely registered his father's hand on his back until the vomiting died down to dry, arid heaves. Jeff's words of reassurance finally penetrated his hearing. "It's alright Son. Here," As Alan looked up, Jeff handed him a plastic cup full of water. "Rinse your mouth out." Alan did so, sitting back against the wall as he sipped at the remaining water. He could feel the cool of the tiles through his shirt, slowly chilling the itchy heat of his skin. "Better?" Jeff asked as he leant his hip against the sink, wearing a frown of fatherly concern Alan recognised.

"Not really." Alan admitted as he leant his head back against the wall. Breath came in short, sharp gaps and he tried to even it out. Grasping at his stomach, he hoped that the nausea he felt would dissipate.

Jeff looked down at him with sympathy. "Something tells me that's not the first time you've been sick this morning." Technically, it was a statement but Alan read the question it was meant to ask.

"No." He shook his head. "It's the third, but who's counting?" He tried to smile, but his stomach threatened to rebel and it turned to a grimace.

"Is it just your stomach?" Jeff couched in front of him, raising a hand to his brow. Noting that he felt hot.

Alan groaned. "My head's pounding too." He closed his eyes.

"Hmm." Jeff stroked his chin. "I'm not really surprised." He told his youngest son. A concerned frown still furrowing his features. "I think maybe you should try and eat something." He suggested.

"No." Alan was shaking his head. "I'd just puke it up again Dad."

Jeff looped an arm round him and pulled him to his feet. "We'll see. Come on, even if it's just some dry toast to line your stomach, it'd do you the world of good." He placed an arm around Alan's shoulder and led him back into the main room. Now bathed in light, Alan grimaced against the glow and squinted to see where he was going as his father led him to the table.

He plopped into a seat as Jeff removed the tray he'd brought with him only to return a few minutes later bearing two cups of coffee. He sipped at one and placed the other in front of Alan with some ibuprofen as he sat down. "Try to drink some of that and take a couple of those. Do you want some toast or something?" Alan shook his head, sipping cautiously at the coffee. "How about cereal?"

"No thanks Dad." Alan continued to sip at his coffee.

"You should try and eat something Son." Jeff frowned as he fetched a plate of warm toast from the kitchenette. "Come on," He encouraged, "Try some of this." He sat back down, taking a slice of toast for himself and pushing the plate in front of Alan.

The younger man turned his nose up, but knew he wouldn't hear the end of it if he didn't at least try. With a grimace, he took a slice and nibbled on it slowly. Eliciting a satisfied smile from his father, he felt now would be a good time to voice his thoughts.

"Dad, y'know I don't actually have to go today." He began. "And, I really don't feel too good. Maybe I should stay here." He spoke to the coffee mug, not daring to look up at his father's disappointment.

"Son, I know today's going to be difficult for you. It's hard for all of us, but I think you'd feel better if you went." Jeff sighed, watching the despondency with which his young son stared at the steaming coffee. "Avoiding it isn't going to make it go away Alan."

"I know that." Alan mumbled, a little defensively. "I just don't feel well, that's all."

"Son, how much of this," He waved a hand, "You not feeling well, is the pressure of what's going to happen today?" Jeff reached a hand out to his shoulder again, squeezing it slightly. "The headache, stomach ache and sickness; it could just be stress, that and nerves."

"I'm not nervous." Alan rebuked. "I'm fine; I told you I just don't feel well!" He frowned at the squeal his voice had risen to, as much as anything.

Jeff nodded, understanding Alan's anxiousness though he had his doubts about the legitimacy of his words. "Let's see how you feel after you've taken a few of those." He gestured to the tablets, hopefully diffusing the situation. Alan picked them up, pushing two through their foil packaging and promptly swallowing them. "Son, I'm not going to force you do to anything you don't want to. I just think you need to go today for your own good as much as anything else." He prompted cautiously; he knew all to well that his words now had to be carefully chosen. One wrong move or inadvertent insinuation and Alan would explode. Instead, he needed assurance and careful handling.

"So if I don't want to go, that's okay?" Alan asked meekly. He knew deep down it was expected of him and that there was little chance that he would be staying here when the other's left later that morning. However, a tiny part of him wanted the reassurance that he didn't have to. He needed to know that if he really couldn't face it, he had a hiding place; somewhere to seek solitude if it came to that.

Understanding Alan's uncertainty yet knowing that a little fatherly reassurance was all that was needed, Jeff frowned. Alan spent so much time these days convincing them he was an adult, yet the insecurity he oozed now, reminded Jeff he was and always would be, his youngest son. "It's your decision; it's up to you to make the right choice." Alan smirked as he gulped down some of the coffee. Translating his father's words told him that there was a 'right' choice to make, and his father expected him to make it. Sure enough, came the words to corroborate those thoughts. "Sometimes in life, we all have to do things we don't want to Son."

"Yeah." Alan sighed softly. "I figured you'd say something like that."

"There's nothing to be scared off Alan." Jeff squeezed his shoulder for a second time, trying to dispel the anxiety and insecurity Alan obviously felt.

"I'm not scared." Alan shook his head, but regretted it. The defensive tone back in his voice. "Why would I be scared?" He feigned courage.

"Good." Jeff nodded, ignoring the question and shattering the aggressive manner Alan had taken. He knew those words weren't true as much as Alan did, but neither of them questioned their validity for the sake of ease, and pride. "Because today isn't going to change anything." Jeff went on. "I'm proud of you Son, and I always will be." He looked across at Alan sombrely. "Right now, you've got a family that loves you very much. We'll be there and we'll support you, whatever. When you come back here this afternoon, you'll still have that Son; a family that loves you and that will support you. And more importantly; that's proud of you." He paused to reiterate his point. "Today doesn't change a thing. You hear me?" Alan nodded, but he seemed unconvinced and continued to sip at his coffee. "Answer me when I'm talking to you, Alan." Jeff frowned, he spoke in that reprimanding tone that only Jeff Tracy could. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes Father." Came the reply, born more out of duty than faith.

There followed a silence as Alan thought his options through. It was obvious what his father expected him to do, however he had serious doubts if he could walk into that hearing today. Let alone sit and listen to the conclusions and not just because of his churning stomach either. Eventually he looked up to his father sadly. "Dad, why doesn't anything ever go right for us?"

Jeff laughed, finishing off the coffee in his hands he looked at his son in earnest. "Alan, things do go right for us. It just doesn't feel that way right now. Look, you're feeling pretty low, once you get today over and done with, things'll get better." He said with confidence.

"You think I'm feeling sorry for myself?" Alan frowned at him and Jeff could see the seeds of his temper growing again.

"Aren't you?" Jeff questioned, raising his eyebrows and allowing his eyes to shine with the wisdom they held. "I know I am." He scoffed quickly, before Alan could retort angrily. "So much for a nice weekend away with my sons. The first time I take some time off in God knows how long, we're finally all together and look what's happened."

"Are you saying you think that's my fault?" Alan's frown deepened, a familiar ire sparkled in his eyes.

"Quieten down and listen to me." Jeff told him sternly, his eyes quashing Alan's potential anger in an instance. "I'm not saying that at all. I'm saying that when I decided to spend some quality time with my boys, I didn't envisage this. It's bad enough that I hardly get to spend any time with my sons anymore. I don't need disaster weekends like this one ruining what time we do have."

"Don't you ever wonder why things like this happen?" Alan sighed pensively. "I've been racing for years. Why now? Why did everything have to go wrong this weekend, when you guys are all here to watch me make a hash of it?"

"You made a hash of nothing." Jeff told him firmly, he nodded though fully understanding the question. He'd asked it himself countless times after this very son had been born and he'd lost the love of his life. "As for why things happen, well your Grandmother has a theory about that." He smiled, remembering the countless times she'd told him. Usually in the early hours of the morning, after tending to the two youngest and having a scotch to 'help him sleep'.

"Yeah?" Alan looked up hopefully. "What?"

"Well, she says that the world has the potential to do so much good for humanity, therefore it has to have the potential to do the opposite too; to harm humanity." Jeff explained, watching Alan frown and not really comprehend what he was saying. "You see according to her everything has an opposite; life and death, love and hate, good and evil, war and peace. All those things are different sides of the same coins; to have one you have to have the other because to know what one is, you have to have experienced the other. You see?"

Alan nodded uncertainly. "I think so. There has to be a balance?"

"Exactly!" Jeff exclaimed. "Well then for good things to happen, bad things have to happen too. And for real good things to happen in the world, real bad things have to happen as well." Jeff studied Alan's dubious expression. "I'm not explaining this very well, you'd be better off asking her. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Again, Alan nodded. "So, for good things to happen in the world, bad things have to happen too?" Jeff nodded. "So why do all the bad things happen to me?"

Jeff laughed. "They don't, it just feels that way right now." He waved his hands. "When you're feeling happy, you don't walk down the street thinking about all the things that are going right. Do you?" The question was clearly rhetorical. "You just take it for granted, but when you're feeling sad, you do."

Alan studied his father for a few minutes; as if he was weighing him up. "That's a heap of crap!" He exclaimed, shaking his head. "You don't really believe all that, do you?"

Jeff shrugged, answering with difficulty. "Sometimes, I'm not really sure what I believe Alan. But I like the idea; I'd like to think there's some truth in the principle that what goes around, comes around." He sighed. "And it explains why there's so many bad things happen in the world. The notion that there's an equal amount of good, gives you some kind of comfort."

"I guess." Alan shrugged. "But where's the equality? There's no way all the bad things that happen in this world, are equivalent to the good things. It just doesn't add up." He shook his head, not at all satisfied with this philosophy. He looked to his father for some further explanation.

"Not now maybe, but in time it will." Jeff said cryptically, thinking about how his future plans would work to equal that balance. The thoughts of a younger mind, however, was about to point out a flaw just how he was relating this philosophy to their future.

Alan frowned at him. "So what? In the future people do good things for humanity and the world at large. According to Grandma's philosophy, and what you just said, doesn't that licence the bad guys to just do more? See, it doesn't make sense." Alan sighed. "There isn't a person in this world who hasn't, at some point in their lives, had faith in good prospering over evil. If there's an equal amount of both then that'd mean it doesn't always happen. And what about justice?"

Jeff looked at his youngest son with a critical eye. Alan was constantly joking around with his brothers and rarely displayed such aptitude. He was reminded guiltily, how the youngest of his son's intellectual capabilities were often overlooked.

"Well," Jeff sighed. "Your head must be better to be thinking that clearly." He smiled down at Alan. "Now, how about you go and clean yourself up?" He suggested, watching Alan's reaction critically.

Reluctantly, Alan pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "I guess I'd better." He smirked as he made his way across to the bathroom.

With a sigh, and a small smile, Jeff Tracy sat back and considered his youngest son's words. There was no doubt in his mind that his future plans were the right thing to do, yet Alan had cast a whole new light on his thinking. With a smirk of admiration he sat back in his chair, deep in thought.

XxxxX

"Gordon, he'll be fine." Virgil smiled tightly into the palm sized videophone, as reassuringly as he could. The anxious look of the young man that stared back, told him in no uncertain terms that the words were wasted on him.

"Promise me you'll keep an eye on him." Gordon pleaded, the words flowed quickly and the sentences flowed breathlessly into one. "He needs to know we'll support him whatever happens today, though don't make out like you think it's not going to go his way. That'd just upset him and he'd explode and the last thing we need right now is to upset him even more…"

"Gordon." Virgil butted in, struggling to understand in places. "Stop it. Take a deep breath and relax." He sighed. If the situation wasn't so severe, he might've laughed at Gordon's fretfulness. "Don't worry, I'll look out for him."

"Relax!" Gordon exclaimed. "Virg, this is serious. I don't think you appreciate how important this is. He's going to need your support either way."

"Gordy," Virgil remained patient. "I've been his brother as long as you have; I know how to handle him. Look, I know you're worried but I promise you, whatever happens today I'll make sure he's okay." He sighed and glanced up to Sam, who stood alongside him looking bored. "He's a tough kid Gords."

"Yeah." Gordon ground out without feeling, in response. "He likes everyone to think that." He said despondently. "But he's not as tough as he makes out." He sighed heavily again. "He feels terrible Virg, and he's scared. More scared than he'll admit to being." Gordon eyebrows rose in concern as a new thought struck him. "Have you spoken to him today? I bet he's in a real state already."

"No." Virgil shook his head. "I haven't seen him yet. Dad's up in his room, we're meeting him down here in the lobby." He paused. "We're all nervous Gords, but Al's got nothing to worry about. I'm sure of it."

"What about last night?" Gordon ignored Virgil's optimism, still frowning. His eyes darted about anxiously and moved with almost the same speed as his lips. "He was pretty upset at the airport, how was he after we left?"

"He was bit down in the dumps last night, but we all were." Virgil shrugged. "He's got a lot on his mind at the minute that's all. I said he could sleep in our room if he wanted. We thought he might want the company, y'know?" Gordon's permanent frown nodded in reply. "But he said he wanted some time on his own, so he had an early night."

"And you let him?" Gordon screeched. "He was on his own last night?" He sighed and dropped his head. All Virgil saw was a mass of red hair shaking from side to side. "Damnit!" Gordon exclaimed. "I knew I should have stayed."

"Gordy you didn't have a choice, you couldn't have stayed even if you wanted to. We've been through this." Virgil sighed, he was renowned for his endless supply of patience and he was really having to draw upon it now.

"So you let him stay in that room on his own, all night?" Gordon was beginning to become angry.

"Gordy, he wanted some space." Virgil replied calmly, his eyes holding his brother's gaze and conveying his message. As a result, Gordon seemed to calm somewhat and so Virgil carried on. "Some time to think. He knew where we were if he wanted anything and I went down and checked on him just before midnight. He was fine; in fact, he was sound asleep."

"No sign of any nightmares?" Gordon frowned into the receiver.

"Nope." Virgil shook his head. "I stayed down there for over twenty minutes and he was sleeping like a baby." He paused. "I think the shot glass by his bed had helped him out there though."

Virgil didn't think Gordon's frown could go any deeper but he was wrong. "He'd been drinking?" The aquanaut replied incredulously. His worry heightening to a completely different level, just when Virgil thought he was making progress.

"Don't panic Gordon; he'd only had a few. Besides it's not the crime of the century for him to have a drink, it's not like he's underage." Virgil frowned back. Rules and Regulations weren't something that really troubled this brother. As had been proved on countless occasions when he'd been sent home from school for his 'roguish behaviour', as their grandmother put it. It had always surprised Virgil that Gordon had joined an organisation like the WASP, who instil discipline and restraint into their officers. When Virgil questioned him about his decision at the time, Gordon had insisted he needed the discipline if he was ever going to get anywhere in life; something to curb his hedonism. As Virgil looked at him now, recalling that conversation he was also reminded of Gordon's response when the subject of the tight regulations had been brought up; 'Rules are made to be broken, Virg.' He'd told his brother, a mischievous grin highlighting his flashes eyes.

"He shouldn't be drinking on his own; it's not good for him. Trust me, I know. If he was in a low mood, alcohol will have just made him feel worse." Gordon growled back angrily.

"What aren't you telling me?" Virgil narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Is he still taking those painkillers?" Gordon asked pointedly, avoiding the question by asking another.

Virgil shook his head. "He's not stupid Gordon; he wouldn't drink on top of taking painkillers." Gordon was about to jump in and reveal to his brother that he had evidence contrary to that theory. Luckily, Virgil spoke again and the moment passed. "Besides, he said he's only taking them as and when he needs them now. Maybe his shoulder was okay yesterday." As Virgil spoke, a flashing green light in the top right hand corner of the screen alerted him that he had another call waiting.

"Hmm, maybe." Gordon was replying. "Still, he needs to take it easy. Do you think Jack's going to cause a scene again? The last thing Al needs is him having another go at him."

"Gordy, I've got another call. I'll just be a minute." With that, Virgil pressed a few keys on the tiny pad. "Sorry Sam," He said to his companion. "I'll be done in a minute."

"Don't worry about it." The mechanic replied, "He's your brother and he's obviously worried."

"Yeah," Virgil frowned. "And you're my friend." He glanced at the screen before groaning loudly and wiping a hand over his face. "Oh God, it's John." He forced a false smile as he answered the call. "John," He began tersely. "Yes, Alan's fine. No, we haven't left yet. Yes, of course I'll keep an eye on him and, Yes, I'll let you know as soon as I know anything."

John looked back at him with raised eyebrows. "I'll call you back later." He said simply.

"No, John!" Virgil sighed again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap."

"It's okay," The blonde astronaut replied and he really did understand. Both his brothers were under a lot of strain today. If Virgil voicing his frustrations would help him, John really wasn't too upset about it. "You're busy; I'll talk to you later." He didn't want to keep his brother, but the guilty expression on Virgil's face, told him he was truly sorry for snapping.

"I'm sorry, it's just I've got Gordon on the other line doing a great impression of a mother hen, and it's not exactly a stress-free day for me either." Virgil told him sarcastically. "Are you okay?"

John nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just calling to check you and Al were okay. I can see you're stressed, I'll call back."

Virgil felt immensely guilty. "John," He shook his head. "We're just waiting for Dad and Al, then we're going to leave. I think he's all right; he seemed okay last night. Well, as 'okay' as we can expect him to be, I guess."

"Hmm, yeah." John nodded thoughtfully, today was going be tough for Alan and Virgil, there was no doubt about that. But, in some respects he and Scott and Gordon had it tougher. Knowing that his brothers were facing such an ordeal and being helpless to be there and support them really got to him. It was a kind of guilt and self loathing mixed with a horrible uncertainty and anxiousness. Together, it equated to a feeling of desolation and helplessness that John Tracy could never remember feeling before. It was a horrible sense of looming despair that he couldn't shake. "I hope everything goes okay." He mumbled distractedly, his brain was somewhere else entirely. "How about you? Are you okay?" He tried to read his brother, but he couldn't be sure if the lines of worry were caused by Gordon or Alan.

"I'm fine." Virgil nodded. It was fast becoming second nature. "Stressed, but I'm fine. To be honest John, I'll just be pleased when this whole damned thing is over."

"I know it's going to be tough for you today, but try and take it easy huh?" John winced, at the words. He knew as he said them that Virgil certainly wouldn't be taking it easy today. He had to try though. Despite Virgil's ignorance, he knew just what his older brother had been through and he knew how important it was for Virgil to stay as calm as possible. "How's the ribs?"

"Not too bad, still a little sore." Virgil replied honestly. "I'll live though."

John nodded. "I won't keep you any longer. Let me know how it goes." He smiled, but his eyes told Virgil he was just as anxious as Gordon was. "Take care of him for me."

"I will." Virgil nodded again, another wave of guilt suddenly overwhelming him. "I'm sorry I snapped Johnny, I just…"

"It's okay." The blonde man smiled. "I understand. Really, I do. Listen, I'll talk to you tonight."

Virgil smiled back, that was so typical of this particular brother; so understanding. "Sure," He sighed. "Thanks John."

"You'd better get back to Gordon before he gives himself an aneurysm." John grinned. "Take care." He winked, before he closed down the line. He meant those last words more than Virgil, perceptive as he was, could possibly understand.

With a heavy sigh, Virgil turned back to Gordon. "Gordon," He was surprised when there was no image of his brother. "Gordon? You still there?"

"You really need to change that music, Virg." Gordon's image returned. Turning his face in disgust, he screwed his nose up. "It's torture!"

Virgil took a deep breath to calm himself. "It's Beethoven Gordon, just because you don't have an artistic bone in your body doesn't mean other's don't." When Gordon looked back at him blankly, he shook his head. "You wouldn't understand." He sighed.

"Listen," Gordon was saying. "The Jamison's are going to be there, aren't they?" When Virgil nodded, he went on. "You're going to have to keep him away from them; the last thing he needs is another face off with Jack, not today."

Virgil nodded; he had to agree with that. Suddenly a thought struck him as to why Gordon was spending so much time on the 'phone to him. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Gordon, have you spoken to Al this morning?"

The aquanaut shook his head guiltily. "No, if he sees I'm this nervous it'll just make him even worse." He continued to shake his head. "I can't Virg."

Virgil had to grin. "Good." He sighed in relief before smiling up reassuringly at his younger brother. "Now do you think you cold stop making me even more nervous. Don't you have a job to do?"

"Yeah." Gordon sighed. "I'm sorry Virg," He felt suddenly bad for offloading this responsibility for Alan's welfare onto Virgil, when he knew his older brother wasn't well either. "I'm just worried about him." Gordon tried to explain with difficulty. He shrugged again and heaved a heavy sigh. "Sorry."

Virgil looked at him sympathetically. "Don't be. I know you're worried Gords, we all are. And, I know you wish you could be here, but I promise you. I'll take good care of him for you." He spoke sincerely, not even able to comprehend what it was like for Gordon being so far away.

Gordon nodded again. "Thanks Virg." He sighed. "I'm sorry if I went on a bit, I just…" He trailed off and sighed yet again. "I'd better go. Talk to you later." He smiled but his eyes mirrored John's and Virgil found it difficult to smile back. "Oh, Virgil." The young redhead hesitated half way through terminating the call. "Remind him to call me as soon as it's over, okay?"

Virgil smiled, unsurprised by the last minute reminder. "Of course I will. Talk to you later."

"Bye." Came the simple yet equally distraught reply.

With a sigh, Virgil flicked the videophone shut and tried to forget about both his younger brothers' anxiousness. It would only make him more nervous anyway, if that were possible, he surmised. He turned his attention back to Sam. The mechanic was stood alongside him, holding a white envelope. His fingers flicked at the corners anxiously, and the paper crumbled under his attempt's to smooth it out.

"It's a bit late to be writing home Sam." Virgil joked. Sam immediately put the envelope in his jacket pocket, crumpling it even more in his haste. He looked up at Virgil with panic stricken eyes. "What is it?" Virgil asked.

"Nothing." The mechanic replied quickly, shaking his head. He glanced at his watch. "Your Dad's been a long time up there. You think we should go get him?" He suggested.

"Nah," Virgil replied, screwing his nose up. "Dad'll be fine, I'll bet he's giving Alan a lecture on how to cope today." He turned to his friend. "Let's talk about you. You okay?"

XxxxX

"Well, how do I look?" Alan asked, as he emerged from the bathroom.

Jeff turned to study his appearance, smiling at the change in Alan's tone of voice from earlier. Hair tamed and neatly combed back, colour returning to his cheeks; Alan looked every bit the fine young man, even if he was still a little pale. "Much better." Jeff grinned, as the young man picked up his tie and proceeded to the mirror. "You look very smart and handsome."

Alan frowned, "Yeah right." He scoffed. "I hate suits." He struggled to fasten the tie, undoing if for a second time and trying again. "You'd think Ferrari would insist on red, wouldn't you? Y'know that being their trade mark colour and everything." He gestured to the black suit jacket that hung from the doorway. "I'd love to see Virgil's face if they did. I suppose red isn't really a good colour for suits. We'd look like those old air hostesses, like in the movies." He smiled to himself lamely, as he babbled. "I suppose we'd stand out, you wouldn't miss us in red would you? But then again, I suppose sometimes they don't want us to stand out. I mean like today, the media'll be there, won't they? It's better if we blend in with a crowd." He sighed. Becoming frustrated with his attempts to do his tie, he pulled the garment from round his neck with a snap and threw it on his bed. He glanced at his watch. "We should be leaving soon. Are Virgil and Sam ready?" Jeff just looked at him with raised eyebrows. Taking in his father's expression Alan sighed and closed his eyes. "God! Listen at me." He shook his head. "I'm babbling, I'm turning into Gordon. He does that when he's nerv…" He trailed off, realising what he was about to admit to. "I'm not really nervous," He added quickly, "Just…" Again, he let the sentence trail off. "Are Sam and Virgil ready?" He asked again.

Jeff picked up the tie and took the apprehensive young man by the shoulders. "Virgil and Sam are waiting downstairs." He squeezed the young blonde's shoulders. "Everything's in hand. Calm down." Alan took in a breath and nodded slightly, he smiled up at his father apologetically. "Now, let's see if we can get this tie fixed." He reached out to fasten the top button of the crisp white shirt, and went about fastening the tie. "Look at me; I want you to listen to me." He waited until Alan was looking directly at him, before continuing, wrapping silk over silk as he spoke. "You've got nothing to be nervous about, or ashamed of, you hear me? You should be proud of yourself; you walk in that room with your head held high. Tall and strong, okay?"

Alan nodded with difficulty as Jeff hand's smoothed the silk round his neck, "I'll try."

"You will." Jeff told him firmly, as he folded his collar down and straightened the smooth knot. "We'll be right behind you Son. I meant what I said." He nodded as he held out the black suit jacket for Alan, who obediently placed his arms in the sleeves. "I'm proud of you." He said sincerely, as he brushed the jacket shoulders and stood back; beaming with dignity. His gaze drifted to the motif on the breast pocket of the jacket but he purposely stopped his vision lingering. "Come on, the boys will be waiting downstairs." He placed a hand round Alan's shoulders, realising the young man was trembling. He seemed reluctant. "Son?" Jeff queried, frowning at the young man who suddenly seemed so frail and vulnerable.

"It'll be okay, Dad. Won't it?" Alan asked anxiously, biting on his bottom lip.

Despite the sadness he felt at Alan's delicate appearance, Jeff nodded. "Of course it will be Son." He said as he rubbed his shoulders whilst guiding him to the door. With one deep breath, Jeff pulled the door closed behind them and stepped out into the hallway. Hoping that by the time they returned all this would be well and truly, over.

XxxxX

Virgil studied Sam as he looked at his watch for what felt like the tenth time in the last two minutes; he was clearly becoming agitated.

"We really need to be leaving soon. Otherwise we're going to be late; are you sure we shouldn't at least call your Father?" The young mechanic turned to his companion with anxious eyes. Around them, the reception area of the large hotel buzzed with life.

"I'm sure." Virgil replied calmly, his vision drifted around the area where they stood. Taking in all the other people who went about their business, oblivious to them. Their lives happy and worry-free. He turned back to Sam, ignoring the desire to be one of them. "Dad's never late for anything; don't worry." He assured his friend. Calm as always in a crisis.

"Hmm," Sam shrugged, glancing yet again at his watch. "There's a first time for everything." He muttered unhappily, as he began to pace up and down. Virgil watched him sympathetically.

"Sam, would you just relax, Dad'll…" He trailed off, pointing a finger passed Sam's shoulder. "Look, there they are."

Sam breathed an audible sigh of relief as Alan and Jeff approached. Meanwhile, Virgil's gaze immediately went to his youngest brother, he began assessing Alan's appearance. The blonde seemed a little shaky and pale; but Virgil put it down to nerves. He tried to catch the younger man's eye and smiled in an effort to appear supportive. Alan attempted to return it lamely, but ended up looking away instead.

"Are you ready boys?" Jeff looked between the mechanic and his second eldest son in anticipation. An arm draped around Alan's shoulders protectively told Virgil his younger brother was feeling apprehensive. Alan would never have allowed such on open display otherwise.

"Yeah, Mr Tracy." Sam responded verbally as Virgil just nodded, too caught up in his evaluation to comment. "We need to leave pretty soon Sir, or else we're going to be late." Sam continued to worry.

"Yes, you're right." Jeff nodded, pulling his sleeve back to glance at his watch. "I hadn't realised how late it was getting; we do need to be leaving."

Virgil ignored the conversation and surreptitiously watched as Alan tried to avoid his gaze. He only looked up when he heard another voice enter the mix.

"Ah, Mr Tracy, you've been alluding me." Virgil recognised the man that walked towards them as Mr Johnson. The hotel manager who had interrupted their 'brawl' on the night of the crash. His demeanour was certainly different now, as he walked towards them with a big false grin on his face. Virgil glanced up at his father in admiration; whatever he'd said to the man that night, it'd had an affect. "I've been trying to contact you; you weren't in your room."

Virgil watched their father try to repress a grin at the pompous man; it reminded him irrefutably of Gordon. "Mr Johnson, yes, I've haven't been in my room." Jeff was loathe to give an alibi, despite the fact Mr Johnson made clear it was what he expected.

After a few minutes of anticipation filled silence, the greying man finally got the message and fiddled with his hands nervously. "Oh, I see." He cleared his throat, looking to Sam, Virgil and then Alan.

Virgil could see him studying his youngest brother, screwing his nose up as he did. The chestnut haired man didn't like the way he looked down his nose and was about to comment, when thankfully, his father spoke. "Is there something I can help you with Mr Johnson?"

"Hmm?" The manager drew his gaze to face Jeff Tracy's expectant eyebrows. "Oh, err." He cleared his throat again. "Actually Sir, it was more something I could do to assist you." He paused to grin with almost a manic inclination; Alan and Virgil rolled their eyes before exchanging exasperated looks. Virgil grinned at the situation, Alan didn't.

"Mr Johnson, we're a little short of time at the moment. We should be leaving." Their father was responding curtly. "If this isn't important…" He purposely looked at his watch again; prompting the manager to continue.

"Well, as a matter of fact, Mr Tracy." The manager grinned again, this time also nodding. "It's your departure I wished to talk to you about." Virgil could see his father was tiring of this man's haughty manner. Half of him hoped the manager would go away, the other half wanted him to continue to annoy his father. Virgil knew he'd feel a little more than content, should his father feel the need to quash the annoying little man, like a bug. Unfortunately Mr Johnson spoke again. "I've arranged for your car to be brought round to the rear of the hotel, in the west wing. I've just personally checked and the coast is clear, so to speak." He laughed, slimily. "I thought you might appreciate a little discretion, Sir." He glanced at Alan before pointedly turning to the front doors. Jeff knew there would be a mass of reporters out there.

Virgil couldn't help but grin at the disappointment on Mr Johnson's face when Jeff Tracy appeared less than amused. "I appreciate that, Mr Johnson." Their father replied, in his big, powerful voice. "However it'd be prudent to also remind you that discretion has nothing to do with it. We have nothing to hide, but neither of my sons are one hundred percent fit at this moment in time. The last thing either of them need is hounding by the press."

"Absolutely, Mr Tracy." Mr Johnson was nodding erratically. "I understand entirely." He reached an arm out, gesturing down a corridor. "If you'd come this way."

"You okay Kid?" Virgil asked Alan softly as they followed their father and Sam. Alan's eyes barely met Virgil's as he nodded unsteadily and looked to the floor as they walked. It seemed it was the only reply Virgil was likely to get, for now anyway.

Proceeding to the car, Jeff breathed a sigh of relief as he shut the door. Placing a considerably large barrier between himself and Mr Johnson; he looked up to the rear view mirror. "You alright boys?" Virgil nodded in response. In the corner of his eye, he saw Sam nod distractedly whilst entering the required information into the computer system. Obediently it sprang to life.

"Good Morning, Mr Tracy." The computerised female voice came through the speakers, it went on to robotically repeat further useless information. Including amongst other things, the day, time and weather forecasts. Jeff ignored it with a practiced ease.

"The way that man goes on, anyone'd think we were royalty." Jeff smiled but the joke fell on deaf ears elsewhere, and he sighed resignedly. "Okay." He groaned as he pulled away and into the waiting traffic. "Here we go."

XxxxX

The journey had become tedious and the anxious friction had only augmented as time went on. Compensating for the increasingly tense atmosphere, Jeff had turned on the radio. The background noise helped ease the ominous silence; however, he found his thumb resting on the stereo control moulded into the steering wheel. At even the hint of any upcoming news broadcast, he was flicking to other stations. Virgil watched him with a thoughtful smile of admiration; it was obvious he was doing everything in his power to protect Alan from this dreadful experience. His gaze drifted to his youngest brother, sat opposite him Alan stared out the window aimlessly at the passing scenery.

"Hey," Virgil tried to keep his voice low so as not to alert their father, however the music meant that Alan hadn't heard. "Al!" He reached a hand out to his brother's knee and Alan's head snapped up. A little too quickly, if the wave of nausea that hit him was anything to go by. "You alright?" Virgil asked, his eyes so wide and full of empathy.

Alan just nodded. "Yeah I told you, I'm fine." His haunted eyes told Virgil different but nonetheless, he sat back and let his brother speak. "Are you? How are your ribs?"

Virgil shrugged. "Fine, don't worry about that. Not today." He was surprised when Alan turned to him with angry eyes.

"I'm not stupid, y'know?" He said, distrustfully glaring at his older brother. He was wound up tighter than a coiled spring, and similarly was ready to pounce at the slightest comment he didn't appreciate.

"I know that." Eager to avoid any hostility, Virgil nodded. "You asked if I was okay and I'm telling you I feel fine."

"You're lying." Alan accused bluntly. "You must think I'm really stupid, if you expect me to believe that." He eyed Virgil dangerously. The tension in his shoulders spreading to every muscle in his body, he clenched his fists, ready to defend his maturity. Thankfully though, he took a few moments to take in his brother's expression; wide deep brown eyes overflowing with empathy and love, and an expression that showed only how much he cared. The concerned frown that he found himself on the end of was enough to dissipate the rising anger inside him, and he sat back with a sigh. He let himself flop back against the leather seats and suddenly felt ashamed of himself. After his altercation with Gordon, he was determined he would keep a better check on his temper. "Virg, I'm so sorry." He sighed again. "I didn't mean to sound unkind." He nervously met Virgil's gaze once before looking up again and holding it, anxiously. "It's just… I know you're hurt worse than you're making out."

"Al," Virgil sighed, squeezing his knee silently. "I'm fine; I wouldn't tell you I was, if I wasn't."

Alan debated that point in his head; he knew any of his older brothers would do anything to protect him. Yet right now, he didn't feel it was the right time to discuss it, he screwed his face up as he sighed again. "God, I…" He trailed off as his father changed radio station and there was a silent delay. "I wish Gordy was here." He carried on, as music made its way through the speakers once more.

"Oh thanks!" Virgil exclaimed, sitting back with a sigh. He grinned and shook his head good naturedly. "There's gratitude for you." Virgil grinned, but it became evident that Alan had taken him seriously.

Alan looked up, immediately apologetic. "Virg, I didn't mean…" He stuttered.

"It's okay." Virgil laughed, attempting to put him at some kind of ease. "I know what you mean. I kind of wish he was here too, at least then he wouldn't be running my phone battery dead." He grinned to himself. Taking in Alan's vacant expression, he explained further. "He called me this morning, was on the 'phone for over an hour making me promise I'd keep an eye on you."

Alan smirked despondently. "He said he'd call but he never did." He frowned. "I thought it was because he couldn't face telling me it'd be okay, when he knew it wouldn't be. Y'know?" Virgil felt for his brother as he spoke those words with such despair. "He knows I'll know that he's lying."

"No, Al." Virgil shook his head. "That's not it." He sighed again. "That's not it at all. Al, Gordy's really cut up that he couldn't be here. He didn't call you this morning because he felt terrible that he was so far away, that he couldn't be here for you. That's why he spent over an hour lecturing me on how to look after you." Alan looked across to his brother, his eyes questioning the validity of those words. Virgil just nodded, "Really."

Alan shrugged, he couldn't help the relieved smile that tugged at his lips. "I don't need looking after." He said half heartedly. The lack of authenticity in those words told Virgil it was all he wanted though; to be protected by his family and looked after until all this was over.

"The reason Gordon isn't here, isn't because he doesn't want to be. You understand that, don't you?" Virgil frowned, it was important Alan understood. "If Gordy could be here, he would be. Trust me, John told me he was even contemplating chucking it all in to be with you today." Virgil wasn't sure how Alan'd react to that news and watched him carefully for a reaction.

Alan frowned too. "He was?" He asked, slightly surprised.

Virgil nodded. "Well, he spoke about it to me. And apparently, the last night he was here he was talking to John about how much he wanted to stay here with you. You know how important his work is to him; he was in a terrible position, they can be pretty strict when they want to be. And you know he never really had a choice, don't you?" Alan nodded distractedly, still trying to comprehend what he was being told. He was surprised Gordon hadn't spoken to him about it. "Scott and John too, they'd all be here if they could be."

"Yeah," Alan whispered back. "He loves it being with the WASP," He shook his head. "He'd really put all that on the line so as he could have been here?"

"If I'm honest I think it was more what he wanted to happen than what was going to happen in reality, maybe it was the drink talking…" Virgil shrugged before he began nodding. "But yeah, he would; you mean the world to him." He hesitated. "To all of us."

Alan took a deep breath, nodding. "Thanks, Virg." He smiled, as he swallowed.

"Well," Virgil grinned jovially. "Who would we gang up on, if we didn't have you? Huh?" He joked playfully, as he smiled widely. Trying desperately to lighten the mood in the knowledge that it would be exactly what Gordon would do.

Alan grinned, feeling a little better until he was reminded of the implications of today. His smile suddenly fell. "Well, you'd better get used to the idea." He said glumly.

"Alan…" Virgil tried to lighten his mood. "Come on," He reached out to the younger man's shoulder, attempting to provide comfort. "There's no point worrying about it until it's happened."

"What if it does happen though?" Alan asked desolately, only just glancing up to his older brother anxiously. "What if they take my licence away? Or what if they decide I was negligent? What if the Jamison's sue me…"

"Alan!" Virgil was shaking his head, intent on stopping the endless list. "Al, we'll cross those bridges as we come to them. Okay?"

Alan shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I'm sorry." Turning to look out the window as the other cars flew past, he thought for a while about the 'what ifs'. He was alerted to Virgil squeezing his shoulder again and turned back to his brother.

"I know it's hard, but try not to think about it huh?" He smiled gently, knowing the words were useless and feeling inadequate that he couldn't do better.

"Did Scott call you this morning?" Alan asked suddenly, changing the subject completely.

"No." Virgil frowned, "Last time he called was to tell me they'd all got home safe. He spoke to you this morning though, didn't he?" He was pleased that Alan had moved on from dwelling on today's hearing and hurried to move the conversation on.

Alan nodded. "Yeah, yeah he did." A grin suddenly broke out. "He told me to keep an eye on you." Alan sniffed as he faced Virgil's scowl, and then laughed outright. "Scott said you'd do that; told me not to tell you. That you'd get mad, but he's worried you'll overdo it." The younger man paused once more. "I know Scott worries about everything, but there was something about him this morning. He was so serious."

"Scott's always serious." Virgil attempted to shrug off the worry his eldest brother had inadvertently caused in the youngest. "You know how he is; he's just overreacting. It's Scott."

Before Alan could question what Virgil was telling him. The car pulled between two iron gates and into an influx of bright, flashing lights. "Guess we're here then." Sam mumbled from the front seat as Jeff muted the radio.

"Listen boys, I'll handle the photographers." He said as he turned off the ignition. The computer called out a monotonous farewell as the purring engine petered out. "I want you boys to just concentrate on getting inside. Okay?" Three nodding heads confirmed their allegiance to the orders. "Right, Sam you stick close to Alan. Virgil, you stay with me."

Virgil took one look at Alan's face and came to an abrupt decision. "No Dad, I'll take Alan." Having seen Alan's hesitation when they'd pulled through the gates, Virgil thought his brother could do with having at least either himself or their father protecting him from the circling vultures.

"No," Jeff was shaking his head. "You're in no condition." Alan frowned at Virgil at his father's words. "Alan needs to make it to those doors in one piece; one knock in the wrong place and you'd be flat on your back again."

Virgil winced as his father spoke. Grimacing, he felt Alan's eyes boring into him; he looked to the heavens before glaring at his father through the rear view mirror.

"What do you mean 'again'?" Alan's frown deepened as he looked to his father who was just shaking his head. He turned to Virgil, demanding some response from his brother. "Virgil, what does he mean 'again'?"

"Look Al," Virgil replied as calmly as he could. "We don't have time to argue about this now. Let's go." Before anyone could argue, he'd opened the car door and was making his way out. Thankfully, the others followed suit.

For Alan, his father's words though unintentional, sparked yet more unrest. The journey through the mass of reporter's and the public alike was blurred. He buried his head in Virgil's shoulder and let him lead them both inside; Alan's mind was far too busy repeatedly trying to grasp what his father had said to really take any notice.

"Mr Tracy, can you confirm …", "Mr Tracy, how do you feel about….", "Mr Tracy is it true…", "Mr Tracy why aren't …."

The jumble of voices that began as soon as they stepped outside, where soon silenced with a practiced ease. "Ladies and Gentleman, we will be making no comment on today's dealings until after the preliminary hearing, when a statement to the press will be made. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

He didn't give them a chance to reply.

Inside, a very different type of interrogation was taking place as Alan pulled himself away from Virgil's shoulder with force.

"What did he mean 'again', Virgil?" Alan asked. Unmasked fear and emotion causing his eyes to swell with tears. Anger at being kept in the dark and concern for his brother's health manifested itself in the aggressive retort.

"Al, it's no big deal…" Virgil attempted to reach out for his brother's shoulders but Alan pulled away again, angrily.

"If it's no big deal why is everyone lying to me!" He exclaimed loudly. "This has something to do with Sunday, doesn't it?" He voice rose as he spoke. "And why Scott was so adamant we couldn't go out. Why won't you stop treating me like a kid! Someone just tell me!" His final words echoed around the porch way, hollowly.

"Okay, okay!" Virgil raised his hands in surrender. "I'll tell you. Just calm down, alright?" Alan allowed Virgil to place his hands on his shoulders. "Take a few deep breathes and calm down." He repeated in a soothing tone. "We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to worry; you've got enough stress at the moment without having to deal with any more." He began as Alan calmed down. "It was nothing, I swear to you. I just … passed out…" He groaned, it sounded so dramatic when he said it like that. "It wasn't as bad as it sounds."

"Passed out?" Alan frowned, screwing his face up as he leant back against the wall. Comprehension came slowly. "Because you were hurt? Because of the crash?" His frown deepened as he realised the true consequences of the crash that, in his mind, he'd caused.

"No," Virgil immediately shook his head. "Not because of the crash. Because I did something very stupid…. I pushed myself too hard, too quickly and I paid the price. It's nothing to do with the crash, it was my own fault." He paused to give Alan time to take that in, wanting him to understand that the younger man was blameless. "And I'm fine now."

"I had no idea it was that bad." Alan whispered, he looked up to his brother. "I'm so sorry Virg."

"It's not that bad." Virgil told him sternly. "Al, you don't have to apologise." He sighed heartily. At a loss for what else to say or do to convince his brother, he wrapped his arms around the young blonde's shoulders. Feeling Alan flop into the embrace without resistance. "I'm fine." He whispered again, as he felt Alan tremble against him. "You can hold me. I'm not going to fall apart, I promise." He joked, when he realised Alan was being particularly gentle. Slowly but surely, Alan's grip on his brother increased until the embrace was returned with the same sentiment. "I'm okay, you're okay and after today, we'll all be okay." Virgil smiled into the blonde hair that tickled against his face. "Okay?" He asked as he saw Sam and his father approaching.

Alan nodded into Virgil's suit jacket. "Okay." Came the muffled reply.

"Good." Virgil sighed as he stood back, smiling reassuringly. He took Alan by the shoulders, and leant down until they were level, their eyes locking. "It's going to be alright." He said with as much conviction as he could muster. As the other two men approached, he hoped it was enough.

"They're about to start." Sam smiled nervously. As he gestured to a wide corridor and they began their way along it. He chatted nervously to Alan as Jeff purposely held back.

"Virgil son, I'm sorry about what happened in the car…" Jeff began as he shook his head. "I let my mouth run away with itself." Virgil never thought he'd hear Jeff Tracy utter those words in his lifetime. His father was the most level headed and controlled man he knew; he rarely let emotion get the better of him. Yet today, Virgil understood his father's uncharacteristic slip; it wasn't exactly a normal day.

"It's okay Dad," The second eldest son smiled back as he placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "Everything's going to be okay." Jeff nodded despite his own hesitancy, he admired Virgil's optimism as they followed Sam and Alan down the corridor slowly. Deep down inside he knew Virgil was convincing himself as much as the others. The signs were all there that the second eldest of his sons was only just holding it together himself.

Thankfully, Jeff took the lead as they entered the room itself; Alan took a deep breath as he followed his father inside. He didn't really know what to expect on the other side of the big, mahogany double doors and prepared himself mentally for the worst. Suddenly, nerves got the better of him and he hesitated, turning back to Virgil, who was stood behind him.

"I don't think I can do this Virgil." He whispered timidly; the anxiousness in his voice was only a tiny representation of what he felt inside.

"Yes you can." Came back the strong, unwavering voice of his consistently steady older brother. A hand rubbed at his shoulder in a gesture of unconditional support. "I'll be right behind you. You can do this. Now, come on."

With one last deep breath, Alan closed his eyes tightly. His thoughts in turmoil over what he'd just learned and feeling semi-naked that he didn't have his soul mate their to support him, Alan Tracy stepped forward to face an uncertain future.


	23. Facing the Consequences

Authors Note: Yet again, I must apologise for the delay with this, but the final chapter is here at last! A few things to say first though; Firstly and foremostly a huge thank you to everyone who has taken the time to let me know their thoughts on this piece of writing in one way or another. Some of you will know, as writers, how important feed back is to those of us who want to improve our skills and learn our strengths and our weaknesses. I truly appreciate the time everyone took to contact me – thank you. And whilst we're on the subject of thanking people, I must also thank Tikatu for her advice with regard to my abysmal American! And Amanda for her beta reading skills.

As some of you know, this story is based on a real life experience that could have ended very differently. Luckily for us, our ending was a happy one. I hope this ending is everything it should be and lives up to expectations.

Happy New Year, everyone and thanks once again for all the support,

Kim

Chapter 23 – Facing the Consequences

"You going to drink that?" Virgil gestured to the coffee that Alan continued to swill round in his hands. It was only when the repetitive movement stopped, that his hands began trembling again. Virgil watched the cup nervously, half expecting the cold, brown liquid to slop out. He glanced up to Alan's face; his younger brother appeared to be watching the plastic cup attentively. However, the vacant expression in his eyes told Virgil he was actually far too deep in thought. "Al?" When his brother didn't look up Virgil reached a hand out to his arm. "Alan?"

"Hmm?" Fearful blue eyes asked inanely.

"What are you thinking?" Virgil gave the young man his full attention as he moved from his position to sit alongside him. He glanced around the small cafeteria as he did; they'd been waiting here for over twenty minutes. After the coroner's and the field marshal's reports, the Chairman had decided a break was in order and they'd ventured out to the cafeteria. No one had eaten anything despite their father's insistence that they should, and the tense atmosphere that seemed to have settled around them, remained.

Alan looked up to him quizzically, his expression still vacant. Virgil wasn't sure if he was even listening to what he was saying, or if his brother just had a sudden desire to speak. "I never meant to hurt you."

Virgil sighed, just when he thought he managed to convince Alan he was okay; their father had inadvertently dropped a bombshell. "Al, we've had this conversation already, I thought we'd talked about it. I know you'd never hurt me. I told you, what happened on that track wasn't your fault." Alan opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil didn't give him the chance. "And the reason I passed out, was my own pig ignorance to accept the fact that I was sick."

"But I'm the reason you were sick in the first place." Alan's eyes took on a steely look of determination. Sad determination. "I was the one that asked you to come out with me." He stated emphatically.

Virgil frowned. "No you didn't, I offered to go with you."

"Yeah but I couldn't have dropped any bigger hints, could I?" Alan's eyes flickered up to his brother once again, portraying the anxiousness and guilt he felt. Virgil was beginning to feel like nothing could break down the sheer size of the wall of guilt Alan had placed round himself.

"Al, I'm a grown man." Virgil shook his head. "I could have said no. It was my decision to get in the car, no-one else's."

Alan seemed to accept the solemnly spoken words and swallowed, looking across the room with glazed eyes. "It's kind of ironic you know." He said softly. "Scott's spent the whole of this weekend trying to be there for me but I just kept pushing him away." He bit his bottom lip as he face crumbled. "I didn't think I needed him, I'm an adult now. I thought I could do this, but who am I kidding?" He laughed hollowly. "I do need him." He admitted sadly. "There's nothing I wouldn't give to have him here now, to wrap his arms around me and tell me it'll be okay." He bowed his head, the tension threatening to get too much. "He's right; I am still just a kid."

Virgil placed an arm around his brother's shoulder, to the protest of his ribs. Secretly, he wished Scott was there too; somehow his older brother always knew what to say or do to make things seem that little bit more hopeful. He sighed. "Al, you're growing up. The way you've dealt with all this," He waved his hands, gesturing around them. "That just shows how mature you've become. Everyone needs a little reassurance once in a while. If I'm really honest I kind of wish Scott was here too, I need that reassurance as much as you do." He admitted.

"Really?" Alan asked, looking up with shocked eyes.

"Sure." Virgil was nodding. "I wish they were all here, especially Scott." He reiterated with ease. "And not just because I want to have a word with him after what he said to you." Alan frowned and Virgil expanded on that comment. "I don't need looking after."

"Yeah, you and me both!" Alan nudged him, regretting it when he saw the change in Virgil's eyes. The pain elicited from his still healing ribs was obvious. "Leave it Virg." He shrugged, his eyes apologising for him. "He meant well. He's had a tough weekend; Gordon told me he'd had a real go at him the night all this happened." The younger man smiled askew sympathetically. "The last thing he needs is you on his back too. You said yourself; it's Scott." He shrugged again. "Y'know?"

Virgil processed Alan's words slowly. "Yeah, you're right." He agreed shakily. Thank goodness Alan didn't know they'd already had words, he contemplated in silence.

Alan didn't seem to notice his brother's suddenly pensive expression and carried on obliviously. "It all makes sense now." He was saying. "Why Scott was so touchy about not going out, why he was so insistent this morning. I knew there was something else, something you guys weren't telling me." He sighed and looked up at his older brother. "You should have told me y'know? Secrets like that aren't healthy."

Virgil's heart pounded at the comments; he couldn't bear for Alan to know the real 'truth'. For him to know exactly what happened in that car; it'd be torture for both of them. Maybe in time, he could build up the courage to tell him but right now, Alan didn't need the extra strain and neither did he. If Alan was satisfied that he'd discovered the reasons behinds Scott's behaviour, Virgil wasn't about to put him straight.

Virgil was about to comment again, when a deep voice from behind him spoke up. "Ms Dews has come in; I think they'll be reading their report soon." Virgil turned to their father, feeling slightly relieved at the intervention. He forced himself to his feet as he looked back at his brother. "You ready?" Alan looked to Virgil nervously; his eyes wide and his hands still trembling. His older brother merely wrapped an arm around him, once more. "We're ready." Virgil confirmed, when it became obvious Alan was struggling to reply.

Jeff stepped forward, placing a hand on both of their shoulders. "Right, come on then." He smiled as hopefully as he could, as he led them back into the room.

Alan glanced around as they sat down alongside Sam. The three suit glad individuals who were presiding over the hearing sat at the front of the room behind a long, dark mahogany table. Alan had been watching them whilst the other reports had been delivered; making notes with shiny, heavy silver pens and stroking their chins pensively. Sometimes they frowned and nodded, other times they looked at each other disapprovingly. He longed to hear Gordon's voice beside him, telling him they were probably playing noughts and crosses under the desk. His vision lingered on the committee before he looked to the row of people sat opposite them. Amongst them sat Ms Dews, and other people who had delivered reports already. He recognised one as the Chief Marshal and another, his father had told him, was the coroner. He glanced across at the pair of tables in front of the committee's big mahogany desk. Bare for now, they silently mocked him in the knowledge that Ms Dews would stand their soon and deliver his fate.

There was a commotion further down the row of seats and Alan craned his neck to see what was going on. As he took in the scene, he wished he hadn't; the Jamison family sat at the far end of the seating area. Looking back at him directly, Jack Jamison turned his nose up and took his place; regarding Alan with nothing less than contempt. Jack sat alongside his mother, who periodically raised a handkerchief to her eyes. His father on the other side of the older woman seemed to just stare ahead blankly. Alan bowed his head repentantly and drew his eyes away. He was relieved when his father reached a hand out to his shoulder, obviously sensing his distress. Alan smiled back as reassuringly as he could; thankful for the comforting contact.

Before he had a chance to actually say anything in reply, the Chairman spoke. He reminded Alan of an old business friend of his fathers. A big, portly man; his glasses were perched on the edge of his nose and his shirt buttons strained to contain his stomach. His dark brown beard had started to turn yellow around his mouth, Alan presumed from smoking too many cigars. He turned his attention back to the room and tried to concentrate on what he was saying. "And finally, we are to hear from the Crash Investigation Team." He turned to the row of exhibitors. "Ms Dews, if you could present your report please." Alan glanced nervously between his father and Virgil, sat either side of him. Ms Dews noisily made her way to where the table stood and scattered her files out.

"I address the Committee, with the following report. An investigation into the death of Mark Peter Jamison, pronounced dead at West Bridge Circuit on the eight of July, of this year 2016. As the coroner has already told us, Mr Jamison's injuries are consistent with a high-speed collision; though death itself was incurred through third degree burns on over eighty percent of his body. The collision itself was potentially the fatal factor and we have considered several other issues as we attempted to determine the cause of the crash itself. The two cars involved were examined, the mechanical reports of both, along with the transcripts of interviews and any other evidence I shall be referring to, can be found in our submission." She paused to ruffle through her notes dramatically, picking up a piece of paper.

"The mechanical report of Mr Jamison's vehicle, a Ferrari GX 10 series, confirms that the car was in good working order. However, the report from the same model of car that Mr Jamison was in collision with, belonging to a Mr Alan Tracy, showed serious errors. If you would turn to page six of our submission, you will see that although the car appeared to be in fourth gear at the gate, the vehicle had selected second gear in the box." She paused for effect. "This was a critical factor in the crash." Alan looked to Virgil who was taking in Sam's pale form. "The selection of a lower gear caused the back wheels to effectively lock in position. This, in turn, caused the car to spin uncontrollably at high speed. The damage to the heart of the engine shows that Mr Tracy and his passenger were extremely lucky. The strain the engine was under could have caused it to explode; Dr Nickel was highly surprised it didn't."

"And how did Mr Tracy's reaction affect the spin, Ms Dews?" One of the committee was asking. Interrupting Ms Dew's smooth and dramatic flow of words.

"Mr Tracy should be commended on the way he dealt with the situation." A loud scoff from Jack turned everyone's head and the Chairman looked down at him with distaste. "The situation could easily have been much worse." Ms Dews continued. "But Mr Tracy kept his wits about him, and reacted accordingly."

"No fuel rush then?" The Chairman was joining in. Ms Dews looked up, clearly not liking all the questions.

"No, there was no fuel rush. Mr Tracy cut the power, having seen the engine revs exceed the danger mark, he didn't try to take control." She paused before almost reluctantly adding. "And rightly so too."

"Mr Tracy didn't attempt to take any sort of control? He didn't apply the brakes, or attempt to slow the vehicle down?" Another member of the committee was questioning her.

"No." Ms Dews repeated, a little heatedly. She was becoming flustered now she couldn't keep to her script. "Mr Tracy made no attempt to control the spin." She repeated clearly and a little patronisingly. "The car never regained sufficient traction; he had no opportunity to apply the brakes. I would repeat; he should be commended on his reaction. He saved his own life and his passengers."

Said so clearly and plainly, it really hit home to Virgil and his father, just how close they had been to not making it through this. They exchanged looks over Alan's head, before Jeff placed an arm around his youngest son's shoulders. Equally proud, Virgil gently squeezed his brother's knee; thankful that Alan's quick thinking had saved his life. Alan jumped when he felt Virgil's leg vibrate against his; he looked up to his brother in disbelief. Virgil just shrugged, mouthing 'Scott'. Alan looked down again, realising it was Virgil's 'phone that was ringing and nodded vacantly.

Ms Dews continued. "If you'd turn to page seven of the provided material." She waited a few minutes for the three committee members to comply. "As the report in front of you explains this was a technical error that maintenance of the car could not have prevented. Conclusions have been drawn that an integral part of the gearbox itself, was faulty. Causing the actual box to fall out of line with the gate." She paused again, clearly enjoying the attention as she sauntered around the table. "It would seem the gearbox had been reconditioned and the original failure had not been attended to correctly. The positioning of the gearbox and the fact that Ferrari gearboxes operate with cable selectors made it unlikely that any warning would have been presented to the driver, until the moment it actually slipped. In addition, it would be unreasonable; I think you'll agree, for the mechanical team to anticipate any problems with the transmission system. As the report notes…" She gestured to the piece of paper in her hands. "Ferrari USA had refitted several new systems not more than two weeks ago. These included the transmission systems, braking, electronic systems, and several new engine components that are outlined on page nine. Though the error in the gearbox could not reasonably have been detected, the report is also quick to point out that a fault on the secondary safety harness of Mr Tracy's vehicle, prevented evacuation of a legal passenger. Causing unnecessary injury through this careless lack of maintenance." She said it with such distaste and disgust, Virgil practically felt Alan's trembling increase.

A member of the board spoke up again. "Err, Ms Dews is this matter to be further dealt with?"

"Yes, a written reprimand from the Federation has already been served, however the Tracy team has an otherwise unblemished safety record. As such, the written reprimand will have little bearing on their future performance." Ms Dews answered the question with a nod of satisfaction before she went back to her report. "Due to the near impossibility of predicting such a mechanical failure, the investigation finds…"

"Ms Dews," The Chairman interrupted, picking up on her use of the near uncertainty. "Near impossibility?" He shook his head. "Well, was it impossible or wasn't it?"

"Well, Mr Chairman, the Tracy team's head mechanic could theoretically have picked up on the fault earlier. However, it's highly unreasonable for us to suggest that he should have done so. Especially after the work had been carried out by such a reputable company." Ms Dews became more defensive with every question that was fired at her.

The chairman nodded but seemed unconvinced. "So, then to clarify, the fault could have been detected earlier?"

"It could, yes." Ms Dews replied curtly, "I find it highly irrational to confer such a responsibility in such a situation. But yes, theoretically the fault could have been detected earlier."

"Well, we'll be the ones allocating responsibility Ms Dews," Again, he nodded in reply. Ms Dews was about to go on, when he spoke again. "Erm," He coughed, "Ms Dews could you address the assumption that this failure, on the mechanical team's part, to note the fault. Is due to the hypothesis that Ferrari USA would fulfil its requirements adequately, and not that the mechanical team were incompetent to fail to detect such a fault."

At the word incompetent, Virgil's attention turned to Sam. His friends face was pale and his eyes were wide and unseeing, he looked to his hands and not out at the display in front of them. Virgil felt the horrible sinking feeling in the bottom of his gut, drop several more feet. "Well, obviously I can't comment on the thought processes of each and every member of the Tracy Mechanical team." Ms Dews was continuing with attitude. "However, I can say that, with regard to a car returning from having such extensive repair work and also, from such a sound company. I would not expect any mechanical team to carry out the detailed checks they normally would, after such an abundance of repair work." She paused but jumped in again before the Chairman could speak. "Of course there is a certain level and indeed duty of care which must be taken in order to maintain safe working standards on the circuit. However, I don't feel and have come across no evidence to prove, that the Tracy mechanical team breached their duty to take reasonable care. Certain standards were maintained more than adequately."

"Except for the safety restraint on the passenger seat." The Chairman mumbled. "I have read your report Ms Dews and I notice that you make specific mention to the fact that the Chief Mechanic in this case; Sam Marshal, has limited experience in leading such a team. In fact, this is the first time, is it not that he's stepped up to take that position?"

"Yes, it is." Ms Dews replied as Virgil studied the mechanic closely. Sam had taken to wringing his hands together in his lap and looked down at them without emotion.

"Did his lack of experience in the department contribute to the crash?" The Chairman paused for breath. "He is, is he not, ultimately responsible for the condition in which the car makes it way to the track?"

"You are correct, of course; he is ultimately responsible for the cars track worthiness and it is possible that a more experienced mechanic may have picked up on the fault sooner. However, with consideration of the fact that the car had only just returned from Ferrari USA, I doubt even a more experienced mechanic would have detected the fault. Mr Marshal and his team took every reasonably precaution and I find it wholly inappropriate and unreasonable to project any blame onto them." Ms Dews was clearly becoming aggravated by the constant questioning and fired her reply back with vigour.

There were a few dreadful seconds were the Chairman was contemplating arguing with her again. However thankfully, he stroked his chin pensively and looked down. "Hmm, again Ms Dews, I'd remind you that we'll be the judge of that." He muttered, "Carry on."

"The Investigation Team suggests to the committee that there was insufficient evidence to indicate any cause for concern should have been detected by the mechanical team. As such, no liability can be attributed to the Tracy team. The study of the crash site concludes that whilst Mr Tracy did everything he could to control the situation that followed, it was impossible for him to regain control. Mr Jamison on the other hand, failed to react accordingly to the incident. He made no attempt to avoid the impact, nor did he cut the power to his engine immediately. He was also, by Federation Standards, travelling at an unsafe distance of immediacy to Mr Tracy." She paused again, evidently surprised that no questions came at that point. "Mr Jamison's late reaction times and the proximity to Mr Tracy's vehicle with which he travelled played large contributions in his death."

She paused again, obviously bringing her report to a close. Another of the board members stopped her. "Ms Dews, if I could ask a few questions; what probable causes are there for the fire?"

"Dr Nickel thinks it highly impossible to pinpoint a cause, although he feels strongly that the most likely scenarios would be sparks from the actual collision igniting a flammable liquid or gas." Ms Dews put forward with a succinct nod.

"So, in relation to Mr Jamison." The board member continued. "If he had severed the power to his vehicle, how would that of affected the fire?"

"As I was about to say," Ms Dews added pointedly. "The fire may have been caused electrically, in which case Mr Jamison's lack of reaction in not severing the power supply would have been fatal." She paused but it seemed the board member was satisfied and so Ms Dews went on yet again. "It is the conclusion of the crash investigation team that due to the factors already outlined in my report, the committee concludes that there is no further case to inquire. We recommend that the coroner record a verdict of death by misadventure. If that's all?"

"So, in brief Ms Dews, your conclusion would be that the accident's primary cause was the unpredictable mechanical failure of Mr Tracy's car. However, Mr Jamison proximity during the lap and therefore his lack of adequate time to react added to the severity of the collision." The Chairman frowned, leaning forward and lowering his glasses to the very edge of his nose.

"That's correct; of course the inefficient reaction time may have been the reason that Mr Jamison didn't cut power to the vehicle." Ms Dews shook her head. "We'll never know indefinitely."

The Chairman nodded. "And the passenger in the Tracy vehicle how did he or she contribute to the incident in question?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and rifling through his papers to consult his notes. "He was of some relation to Alan Tracy, is that not correct?"

"The passenger was Mr Tracy's brother yes, but his primary function in the vehicle was not as a spectator. Alan Tracy had requested some tactical advice on how to utilise the engine to its maximum capacity. Virgil Tracy as a part of the mechanical team offered his advice in the situation." Ms Dews explained. Alan glanced across to where his brother sat at his side, swallowing slightly. Virgil saw the nervous, guilt-ridden action and reached out to where his youngest brother fiddled with his hands in his lap. Taking a clammy hand in his own, he squeezed it reassuringly. Alan sighed but said nothing.

"Considering the vehicle's history of unreliability, a mechanic sitting in on the warm up suggests the mechanical team were experiencing problems. Does it not Ms Dews?" The Chairman was continuing relentlessly.

"In this instance I would disagree, Virgil Tracy's presence in the car was purely for tactical advice." Ms Dews replied adamantly and for once Virgil was pleased she was on their side. He had taken an instant dislike to the woman during his interview, as had Sam. However, now she was in her element and he couldn't help but feel slightly relieved that despite their assumptions about her, she had believed them.

"And was he in a position to provide that advice?" The Chairman asked again.

"He hasn't got any previous racing experience, if that's what your question was. However, he's been a part of his brother's mechanical team since he started racing, and has as much general tactical knowledge as any other team member." She paused for a few seconds as if she was uncertain of whether she should go on. "I see no reason why the fact that one of Mr Tracy's mechanic is also one of his brothers, has any bearing on the incident. As I mentioned in my report he was a legal passenger." Ms Dews was clearly affronted by the insinuation that she hadn't thought to ask that question.

"Did the fact that there were two bodies in Mr Tracy's car, affect its performance at all?" The board were questioning her from all directions now and Alan was feeling the heat. Jeff glanced down to his son, and to where Virgil had a grip on his hand. Casually he draped an arm round his youngest sons shoulders; ready to provide the extra support should it be needed.

Ms Dews looked irritated that the Chairman was prepared to quiz her so thoroughly. "Undoubtedly." She stated clearly. "The extra weight would have slowed the spin considerably quicker than would have happened with only one person."

"Just one further question Ms Dews." The chairperson paused to take in the way the woman in question glared at him, hands on hips leaving no room for interpretation about how she was feeling. "If I'm reading this report correctly, Alan Tracy executed his escape before the impact by jumping. If he had time to do this before the impact, how is it Mr Jamison had inadequate time to react and how is it, he did not escape the wreckage after the impact?"

"Firstly, both drivers are trained to use several varying methods of ejection in exactly these circumstances. Dr Nickel estimates Mr Jamison's speed was in access of one hundred and eighty miles per hour before the application of his brakes. He was travelling at such a speed that any reaction on his part would have been practically subsequent to the impact. Had he not collided with Mr Tracy's vehicle, I seriously doubt how he could have possibly navigated that part of the track at such a speed. In answer to your second question…" She stressed the second part sarcastically, with a raised eyebrow. Virgil chuckled inwardly at her response as she continued. "Mr Jamison was trapped inside the vehicle; the steering column buckled under the pressure of the impact and came down on his legs. He was as incapacitated as Mr Tracy's passenger; both trapped." At those words Alan briefly returned the pressure on his brother's hand. Letting Virgil know he was grateful for the touch and at the same time reminding himself of how thankful he was for this brother's presence at all.

"Thank you Ms Dews." The Chairman coughed uncomfortably. "That will be all."

As Ms Dews gathered her papers together and made her way back to where Dr Nickel had joined the row of other contributors, the three suit clad members that made up the Committee conferred quietly. After a few minutes, the Chairman, sat in the middle, coughed pointedly. Leaning forward, he addressed the room's occupants. By which time, Jeff's arm had made its way round Alan's trembling shoulders.

"Firstly, as Chairman of the Inquiry Committee into this incident I must thank all the individuals present here today and praise the efficiency with which they've compiled their reports. I would also like to take this opportunity to express our sorrow at the loss of a clearly talented, young man. The situation is a very sad one, for all involved; a terrible accident. However, I must conclude that this preliminary hearing concurs with Ms Dews report. After listening to the reports and conducting our own inquiries, we have concluded that there is no further case to answer here. Providing the coroner's court records a verdict of death by misadventure, no inquiry will be required."

Alan let out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding, suddenly struggling to fill his lungs with much needed oxygen. Feeling the relief wash over him, he smiled across at his father as Jeff pulled him into his shoulder. He could Virgil on the other side of him, also holding him. "It's over." Virgil sighed, looking between his younger brother and his father. "It's over." He said it again, as if he hadn't really believed it the first time.

"No!" A shout from the opposite side of the room, grabbed everyone's attention. "No, you're wrong!" Jack Jamison was on his feet. His eyes red and his face angry, he confronted the big mahogany desk despite his mother's protests.

Jeff looked down to where Alan watched him with wide eyes, deciding it was time for them to leave. "Come on son, let's go." Alan looked up at his father blankly as Jeff got to his feet. Alan made no effort to move; not trusting his legs to hold his weight. "Come on Alan, let's move." Jeff was encouraging.

Virgil stood too and turned back with a surprised expression when Alan didn't follow. The younger man's expression appeared blank, and he stared across the room with teary eyes as the confrontation escalated. Suddenly Virgil realised that his younger brother would need a bit more encouragement before he would move.

"Come on Al, it's over now." Virgil leant down, attempting to get his brother to move. He knew if they didn't get out of there soon, they would be next on the receiving end of Jack's temper. His attempts at coaxing his brother away though, were too late. As Jack turned towards them, Jeff pulled a dazed Alan to his feet and thrust him into Virgil's arms.

"Let's go." He said sternly, gesturing to the door. With the help of his father, Virgil practically dragged Alan out into the corridor. Ignoring Jack's shouting as he did.

Alan leant back against the wall, afraid his legs would go from beneath him. Around him, hurried, urgent bursts of conversation erupted. "I can't believe I actually defended that guy to Scott!" Virgil was cursing. "Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Son," Jeff laid a hand on his second eldest's tense form. "Take it easy, don't go upsetting yourself." To anyone else the words seemed comforting but Virgil knew they served as a warning too. The condition he was suffering from with his ribs was aggravated by stress, and he took a few moments to forcefully calm himself down. Jeff sighed loudly as he ran a hand over his worn features, "Well, I'm glad that's over." He said mildly.

"Me too." Virgil nodded. "Thank goodness for that!" He sighed. He almost jumped when his 'phone started vibrating again. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the device and held it up. "It's Scott, I'd better go tell him the good news." His smile conveyed all the relief Jeff felt and more. Virgil's thumb hovered over the button that would connect the call, but a small voice stopped him.

"It's over?" Alan's teary blue eyes were staring up expressionlessly across the hallway, not focusing on the people around him.

In a second, Virgil cancelled Scott's call and gave his brother his full attention. Following his father's lead, they stood on either side of the unstable young man, sharing worried glances.

"It's over." Jeff nodded as he pulled Alan into a warm embrace. "It's all over Son, it's okay." He whispered into Alan's hair as he smiled at Virgil.

"I … I was so sure." Alan's voice was muffled by his father's shoulder and as Jeff held him tightly he could have sworn he felt the young man shudder as he stifled a sob.

Suddenly Alan pulled himself away from his father's embrace. Blinking and breathing as steadily as he could he looked around him at the concerned expressions he'd caused. Relief interspersed with disbelief flowed over him in waves and he felt his eyes beginning to mist again. Swallowing in an effort to stop it, he felt the influx of emotions rise up within him and overwhelm him; surprise then relief, liberation and happiness, and slowly the tension and stress he'd felt was lifting. It was as if something above him was so slowly lifting the invisible weight off his shoulders; a weight that he hadn't even really realised just how heavy a burden it was. His whole body trembled, the anxiousness and the fear he'd felt, suddenly making him want to do nothing more than curl up in his father's arms and cry. He felt so exhausted, so tired. His eyes welled with tears he didn't want to fall and he looked to Virgil, attempting to smile. He couldn't though; his lips shuddered and bit them together in order to control them. Virgil's eyes told him that his older brother understood exactly how he was feeling.

"You'd better go and call John and Gordon. I told them you'd call as soon as we knew anything." Virgil smiled, giving Alan the excuse he needed to be left in peace for a few minutes.

Alan nodded, timidly. "Yeah." He tried to say but his trembling lips muffled his words. He just nodded as he turned away. Shuddering hands reached for his 'phone but as soon as he had his back turned to his family, the tears began to fall and his pace increased.

Jeff took a few steps to follow him but Virgil stopped him. "Leave him Dad; he just needs some time to himself. It hasn't really sunk in yet, give him some time to come to terms with it."

Jeff looked anxiously between his chestnut haired son's sound advice and the hasty exit his youngest had made. Eventually he nodded. "I suppose I have got a few calls of my own to make, organising this press release for a start." Virgil nodded too and he placed a hand on his second eldest son's shoulder as he walked away. "You'll call Scott?"

Virgil nodded again. "Yeah," He sighed. "There's something I want to talk to him about anyway." Something in Virgil's tone told Jeff that, the 'something' wasn't particularly appealing to the son who stood before him now. Nevertheless, he nodded and went off to make his calls.

Virgil turned to where Sam was standing, deep in thought. Virgil noted the white envelope in his hands again. "Hey," He idled up to his friend. "You should call Kenny, y'know." Virgil smiled, despite the pensive, sad expression on Sam's face. "He'll be pleased; I know he feels like he should have been here this weekend. Especially now."

Sam turned haunted, hollow eyes on the second eldest of the Tracy sons. Virgil had to stop himself from wincing at the despair they held. "Yeah well." Sam placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "Me too; maybe he should have been." The mechanic muttered as he walked away.

Virgil took in a deep breath, wincing and coughing to expel it. He presumed Sam, like Alan, was still trying to comprehend the verdict. And how it had brought blissful conclusion to this awful experience.

Fishing his 'phone back out of his pocket he processed the information on the screen. Fifteen missed calls, he shook his head at Scott's constant worry. He patiently listened to several messages his brother had left, ranging from 'Hi, it's me. I was just calling to see how it was going, let me know as soon as you know anything. Talk to you later, bye.' To 'It's me again, I guess you're not finished yet. Call me.' And then finally, just simply 'Sorry, call me.' With an amused smirk, he dialled Scott's number.

Unsurprisingly, it barely rang more than twice. "How did it go?" Scott bypassed any greeting or acknowledgement he could have offered his brother and cut straight to the chase.

"Can you talk?" Virgil asked, studying the hectic background that his brother's image obscured.

"Yeah. Why, what happened?" Scott asked anxiously, searching Virgil's eyes for the reason behind his almost edgy behaviour. "Oh, hold on a minute," He turned away from the screen and engaged in short but sharp dialogue with someone else.

"Who was that?" Virgil asked curiously.

"Oh no one, just Pete." Scott said offhandedly. "Well?" He raised an eyebrow, eagerly. Uncontained anxiety and worry stared Virgil in the face.

"Well," Virgil sighed. "There's not going to be an inquiry." He smiled; it felt so good to say those words. "It's over." He found himself sighing with relief. "It's really over." He said yet again, realising it would take him a long time to get used to that idea.

Scott sighed loudly. "Thank God for that." He closed his eyes briefly, pausing. "I've been waiting all morning for you to call!" He exclaimed, shaking his head. Still experiencing the light headed feeling of relief.

"Yeah I noticed." Virgil smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Fifteen calls is a bit excessive don't you think?" Scott smiled at the comment apologetically.

"Sorry about that," He said remorsefully. "I just wish I could've been there." He sighed again wistfully, not really wanting to think about how he'd let both his brothers' down. "How's Alan?"

Virgil shrugged in reply. "I'm not really sure. I don't think it's sunk in yet and we've only just come out; he's gone off to call Gordy." Seeing the anxiety begin to cloud Scott's features again, he spoke up. "Don't worry, he'll be fine. I'll make sure of it."

Scott nodded. "I know you will." He said softly. "So what exactly did they say?"

"That there was a fault in the gearbox that Ferrari US fitted. Despite the fact that we told them to fit a new gearbox, it looks like they but a reconditioned one on. It must've slipped out of line as he was driving, probably because the original fault hadn't been cleared properly. So when he put the car in fourth at the gate, it selected second in the actual box." Virgil replied, with a shake of the head. "Y'know I actually feel quite sorry for Ferrari, by the time Dad and the Jamison' have finished with them I doubt there'll be much left." Scott smirked at the comment. "Speaking of which, Jack Jamison didn't react too well when the committee were talking about Mark's contribution to the crash. They said he was travelling too close and too fast, he didn't react very well to the accident." Virgil paused, before smiling again. "Oh and they commended Alan on how well he did handling the car as it spun, they said he saved both of our lives."

"Thank God he did, too." Scott added quietly. "Did the Jamison's say anything?"

Virgil shook his head. "Not really, Jack was making a scene as we left but Dad pulled Alan out before he had a chance."

Scott nodded. "Good." He paused, wanting to know every detail. "Well what else did they say?"

Virgil shrugged. "Not a lot really, just that Al couldn't have done anything else. Oh, they did say that a more experienced Chief Mechanic might have picked up on the fault earlier; I think that's upset Sam a bit. I'm going to go and talk to him in a minute." Scott nodded approvingly. "That Investigator; the woman, she was really good. I couldn't believe my eyes…" He stopped again as Scott turned away from the screen, presumably talking to Pete, a colleague of his. "Was that Pete again?" Virgil asked when Scott eventually turned back to him. Scott nodded passively but Virgil could tell he was annoyed, "What's up?"

"Nothing." Scott shook his head, but even through a video connection Virgil could sense his irritation and Scott knew better than to even attempt to avoid the question. "He's just not very happy. We're supposed to be up in the air. I wasn't satisfied with the pre-flight checks so I redid them and we lost our slot."

Virgil frowned, translating Scott's version of events into the truth. "You mean you didn't want to be up in the air when I called." Scott's shrug told him his assumption had been correct and he shook his head slightly. "I thought you were the one who was really confident about all this. Were you really that worried?"

"Alan called me this morning, he was in a real state and I knew exactly what your thoughts about the inquest equated to." Scott explained with yet another sigh. "Can you blame me for being worried?"

"No, of course not." Virgil smiled. "You wouldn't be you, if you didn't worry Scott." A grunt in reply told Virgil that his older brother wasn't sure if that's was a compliment or not. "Speaking of worrying…" Virgil began cautiously. He swallowed, feeling suddenly apprehensive.

"What? What is it?" Scott asked, suddenly looking up with intense eyes; as if by just staring he could gleam some kind of intelligence. "You have been taking those painkillers haven't you? You haven't passed out again or anything, have you?" He added, fretfully.

Virgil sighed. "No Scott." He paused, smirking slightly at his brother concern. "I'm fine." He hesitated again and watched Scott's concern reach new levels. Biting the bullet, he looked away from the screen before turning back a little hesitantly. "I … I was just wondering if that offer was still open?" Virgil dropped his gaze again. Having declined Scott's offer of assistance, he now felt the need to swallow his pride when admitting he'd reconsidered. He avoided eye contact, uncomfortably.

"Offer? What...?" Scott stopped mid-flow, realising what his brother was talking about. "To come and stay for a while?" He paused before crowing. "Of course." He answered with a grin. "You don't have to ask, you know that."

Scott's apparent enthusiasm lifted Virgil's discomfort slightly. When it became obvious that he was going to skip the lecture about swallowing his pride, Virgil relaxed. "Thanks."

"Do you want me to come and pick you up?" Scott enquired excitedly. "It'll be great to see you." He enthused.

Virgil shrugged. He hadn't really thought about the practicalities, he'd been too engrossed in worrying about the outcome of today. That and trying to figure out how to avoid the impending lecture, whilst working up the courage to admit that maybe he'd been too hasty in declining Scott's support. "Well, we're heading back to the States tonight, but we've got to take the car to Detroit before we can go home. Travelling isn't exactly going to be easy for me, or Al, so we'll probably take our time; might stay over somewhere." He pondered. "Then we've got to take Al and Dad to New York. It'll most likely be Friday by the time we get back to Denver."

"Okay." Scott was nodding, already calculating a plan. "Well, I've got Saturday off so how about I drive across on Friday night?"

Virgil wasn't so sure. "Are you sure? That's a long drive." He frowned, not wanting his brother to go out of his way.

"Yeah." Scott nodded. "We'll stay over at yours on Friday night and drive back Saturday. That okay with you?"

Virgil nodded. "Yeah sure, if it's okay with you." He hesitated, before feeling the need to curve Scott's enthusiasm. "Scott, it won't be for long, just a couple of days. Y'know?"

"However long you need." Scott reassured him, though Virgil noticed he was becoming distracted by something happening above the receiver. "What made you change your mind?"

Virgil sighed pausing thoughtfully. "Let's just say that I realised this morning how much I appreciated your support." He paused, noting again how Scott wasn't really giving him his full attention anymore. "Look Scott, I don't want to get in the way or anything."

"Don't be stupid." Scott laughed turning back to the screen with a grin at his younger brother's words. "You wouldn't be. And I know you think I'm going to fuss but I'm not, I promise." He added, adamantly.

"I appreciate it." Virgil smiled. "Thanks."

"Listen, I've got to go; Pete's getting tetchy." Scott replied as he smirked again. "Tell Alan I'll call him later and I'll call you back tonight." He paused as if he was uncertain of whether to continue. "Hey, and I… I'm really pleased you changed your mind."

Virgil nodded. "Me too." He sighed softly. "Thanks Scott."

Scott smiled a reply. "Talk to you later. Take care." He grinned once more at his brothers image before closing down the 'phone he held in his palm.

Virgil relaxed a little, pleased that he'd finally gained the courage to do that. He smirked again at Scott's enthusiasm as he closed his own 'phone down with a lighter heart. Remembering Alan's reactions earlier, he decided to head out in search of his youngest brother. There were a few things he wanted to talk to him about.

XxxxX

"Yeah, I'm fine John. I promise." Alan was grinning into his 'phone as Sam approached him. "He's fine too." There was a short pause. "Yeah I will." Alan seemed anxious to bring the conversation to a conclusion. "Listen John, I've got to go. I haven't told Gordon yet and he's probably trying to call me." There was another pause as Alan listened to his older brother again. "Yeah well I tried but he couldn't talk so he's calling me back." John seemed to accept the reply. "Yeah sure, talk to you later." Alan nodded. "You too, bye John." Eventually he closed down the 'phone with an aggravated sigh.

"Hey." Sam said flatly as he leant against the wall, alongside where Alan stood. "You alright?"

Alan smiled widely, a little shakily but at the same time happy. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am." He sighed. "I can't believe it…" He trailed off. "How about you?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah." He said with less conviction. "Listen, I wanted to talk to you." Alan looked at him expectantly and he hesitated. "I … I just wanted to say that the last couple of years, it's been a great opportunity for me." He nudged the slightly shorter blonde man. "Something to tell my kids when you're…" He hesitated again, an awkward grin developing. "Well, I was going to say when you're rich and famous, but when you make it on the track. I know you will, you're good Al and you shouldn't give up because of this. You heard what they said; it wasn't your fault."

Alan nodded absently. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that…" He sighed pensively.

"Look," Sam shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm not good at this kind of stuff." He reached into his jacket pocket. Before pulling Alan into a bear hug, when he released him he smiled down with sad eyes. "This says it all." He handed Alan the crisp white envelope; it was beginning to look a bit tatty where it had been manhandled so much.

Alan frowned down at the object in his hands. "What is it?"

Sam just shrugged. "Read it." He said as he began walking away.

"Sam?" Alan shouted after him but to no avail. "Sam!" He repeated louder. But the mechanic kept on walking and Alan turned to the envelope with a deeper frown. He was still engrossed in its contents a few seconds later when Virgil approached him.

"What was all that about?" Virgil frowned, looking in Sam's direction. "Do you think he's okay?" He paused. "I was going to talk to him, he seemed a bit weird earlier. I thought it was probably just the …" He trailed off as he looked at Alan's expression; miserable and dumbfounded. "What is it?" Virgil asked with a frown.

Alan looked up at his brother with shocked eyes, waving the letter in one hand. "Did you know about this?" He frowned.

Virgil looked at his brother quizzically. "What is it?" He repeated as he peered over Alan's shoulder at the letter, a horrible feeling circling in his gut that he knew what was coming.

Alan simply handed him the white paper, "Here, you'd better read it."

Virgil dutifully took the letter as his eyes scanned the familiar writing. "Dear Al," He read aloud. "I don't really know what to say, I've never done this before. So I'll dive straight in…" Virgil trailed off, "Never done what?" He frowned at his youngest brother but Alan just gestured at him to read it. "The last few years have been amazing; I've enjoyed every second of it – even when we weren't doing so good! Virgil is my best friend but over the time we spent working on the cars, you've become a very close friend too. Thanks for that, and thank you for the opportunities you've given me to be a part of such a great team." Again Virgil stopped. "He's talking like it's over, it doesn't have to be. I mean it's not too late for you to change your mind about the racing." He frowned. Alan didn't comment instead he stared ahead, waiting for Virgil to continue. Virgil went back to reading aloud, the feeling that there was more to come, ever prominent. "I made a decision this morning that if today's hearing suggested in any way there was more I could have done, that I'd do this. For you to be reading this the Committee obviously thought I was responsible. So for your sake and the team's I'm going to resign from my position." Virgil's voice rose as he spoke. "He can't!" He sighed, turning back. "But…" Alan gestured for him to finish reading the note and with wide eyes; he turned back to the crumbled piece of paper. "I'll still come and support you, but only as a friend. I hope you can understand why I feel I need to do this, I'm sure you will after whatever's just happened. At the end of the day, I'm responsible for the condition of the car and I have to face the consequences of that responsibility. I hope I'm doing that. Thanks for everything, your friend always. Sam." Virgil sighed harshly as he leant beside his blonde brother, his hand dropping to his side.

Both of them stood their, side by side, stunned into a pensive silence.

"You think you can talk to him, maybe change his mind?" Alan asked hopefully after a few seconds.

Virgil shrugged. "I don't know Al, he can be really stubborn sometime. Especially if he thinks he's doing the right thing. I'll try but I can't promise anything." Virgil hesitated. "He seems pretty sure; I think his minds made up."

"He's a good mechanic." Alan said softly. "I don't want to lose him." Then he suddenly shook his head, as if experiencing a moment of clarity. "But what does it matter anyway?" He rubbed a hand over his face, looking desolately to the ground.

"Hey." Virgil tried to soothe his brother's tortured expression. "Come on, you know for a man who's just been cleared of any liability in a fatal crash, you don't look so happy."

"Maybe that's because one of my best mechanic's just walked out on me! Not that it matters anymore anyway, my racing careers over now." Alan shrugged. "I don't know." He sniffed, shaking his head again. "I thought I'd feel different."

Virgil nodded, empathising with his youngest brother. "Me too." He sighed. "But I don't and you don't either, do you?"

Alan shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. "A man still died out there Virg. I guess I thought hearing that it wasn't my fault and that there wasn't anything I could do, would make me feel better. I don't feel any better though." He frowned, looked miserably to his older brother.

"I know how you mean." Virgil sighed again. "I'm pleased the way it turned out and everything don't get me wrong. But it doesn't really change anything does it?" He looked across to Alan, who was pensively studying the floor. "Are you still thinking about selling the car then?"

Alan shrugged. "I don't know." He replied despondently. "I don't know anything anymore." He waved his hands. "This was supposed to make it better!" He exclaimed. "I'm supposed to feel less guilty now; I'm supposed to feel happy. And I'm supposed to know what I'm going to do. But I don't; I don't know what I'm going to do, I don't feel happy and I certainly don't feel blameless."

"I know." Virgil sighed. "I feel the same, today was supposed to provide all the answers. But in some respects, it's just provided more questions to answer." He paused thoughtfully. "We'll get through it though." He said confidently. "There were a few times back there when I doubted that, but after today I know. That's one thing this hearing has done; I know now we can do this."

Alan scoffed. "Good for you, I wish I felt that confident."

Virgil eyed his despondent manner suspiciously. "It's not going to be easy Al, I'm not going to tell you it is but I really don't think you should give up on this. I know your confidence has taken a knock and I can understand why you feel like you do about the racing. But giving up isn't something that this family does very easily." Alan looked across to him with a frown. A familiar frown. A frown that told Virgil the infamous Alan Tracy temperament was heading his way in full swing.

"I don't need a lecture off you in how to continue the good family name." Sure enough, Alan sniped sarcastically. "Besides I'm sure Dad and Scott'll do that, pretty much for all of you. I don't need it, especially from you Virgil!"

"Good, because I'm not going to give you a lecture." Virgil's patient reply came.

Alan seemed to deflate when Virgil didn't rise to his challenge of an argument. "It's not about the family name. It's about me." Alan paused as he replied. "I'm not sure if I can." He admitted softly, glancing down to where he palmed his 'phone from one hand to the other.

"If you can?" Virgil questioned. "If you can what?" He already knew the answer, it was how he felt inside too, but it needed to be said. To hear it out loud was a sort of acceptance.

"That smash really freaked me out Virgil, I'm not sure if I want to get back in the car." Alan admitted. "I thought that if I knew it wasn't my fault I'd feel differently, but I just don't." He shrugged. "The thought of getting back in a car to race, it still terrifies me." He told his brother honestly. "I don't care anymore if that makes me weak or pathetic; I'd rather be weak and pathetic than go back out on the track." He paused again. "That's how much it scares me."

"It doesn't make you weak or pathetic." Virgil placed an arm round him. "It's normal and yeah, it terrifies you." He paused too. "Truth is it terrifies me too." He admitted, sighing shakily.

"Really?" Alan turned to him, his answer came in Virgil's expression. "I was so worried that they were going to take my licence and that my career was over. I didn't really think about what I'd do if it wasn't. I mean, I'm not sure if I can race again anyway."

Virgil swallowed. "Of course you can. You just need to rebuild your confidence that's all." He hesitated, knowing his brother was still fragile and not sure how he would react to this suggestion. "Look, we'll get the car fixed and then take it to a couple of test days; no pressure, you can go at your own speed and take it slowly, until you feel comfortable again."

"I'm not sure I ever will." Alan admitted desolately. "Not after that."

"Neither am I." Virgil sighed again. "But we've both got to get our confidence back somehow. We'll do it together." He rubbed the top of Alan's arm, pulling him into a semi-embrace. "Me and you, what do you say?"

"You'll help me? Do it with me?" Alan asked, surprised yet pleased that Virgil was offering him this lifeline. And it truly was a lifeline to him.

"Of course I will." Virgil nodded, nervous of the implications. He felt exactly the same as Alan did and he was trying his hardest to support them both; he could only hope he was succeeding. The thought of getting back in a racing car not only terrified him but just the words sadistically triggered a replay of his memories of the crash. Yet, he knew he had to be brave for his brother and he also knew deep down, it'd do him good. He needed to do it as much as Alan did, just for entirely different reasons. "Al whatever happens, we're in this together okay?"

Alan nodded, a smile gracing his otherwise forlorn features. "Thanks Virg, I really appreciate it."

"We'd better give Ferrari US a call, tell Simon you've changed your mind about having it repaired to road safety standards." Virgil smiled, truly pleased that he'd got his brother to change his mind. Despite the fact, he couldn't help but feel more than a bit apprehensive about what he'd let himself in for. He decided to focus on the future; something he felt they both needed to.

Alan smiled. "I guess." He was about to say something else when his 'phone rang in his hands. "It's Gordy, he said he'd call me back."

Alan flipped the 'phone open, greeting his brother as Virgil ambled over to where their father had appeared. The sounds of Alan's voice became background noise, as he got closer to the older man. Virgil could see his father had something on his mind before he even got close up.

"Hey!" He greeted with a smile.

It wasn't returned. Jeff looked at him closely. "Virgil son, are you okay? You look a little pale." He paused but not long enough to give Virgil a chance to reply. "I don't want you overdoing it today, you just have to say the word and I'll take you back to the hotel so as you can rest."

"I'm fine Dad." Virgil smiled reassuringly but it would seem his father was unimpressed.

"You need to take it easy." Jeff told him sternly. "Listen, I've been thinking. Alan's going to come and stay with me for a while in New York. Why don't you join us?"

Virgil smiled slyly in admiration. He wasn't sure if it was Scott's work or his father's excessive worrying. But despite his need for independence, Virgil felt a warm satisfaction inside that there would always be his family, there to support him.

"Actually Dad," He smiled back widely. "I'm going to go stay with Scott for a while when we get back. Just until I'm back at work, it's not long term or anything. I just wanted..." He trailed off. "Well actually, it's more to stop Scott worrying."

Jeff nodded, returning the grin as a silent message of understanding passed between them. Jeff understood it was more for Virgil's benefit but he equally knew that Scott wouldn't worry so much about his best friend if he were close by. He caught sight of Alan in the corner of his eye and his smile slowly faded. "How is he?" He gestured to the young blonde man who spoke intently into the palm sized 'phone he held.

Virgil shrugged, turning his vision back to his brother. "Sam's just resigned. I think that's upset him a bit. He's asked me to talk to him but the way the letter read I don't think I'm going to be able to change his mind."

"That's a shame, he was a good mechanic." Jeff's reply gave nothing away, but Virgil studied his father cryptically.

"You're not surprised." Virgil commented. "I was, and he's one of my best friends." He frowned. "I think he feels responsible for the car's condition."

"Well, at the end of the day he was the Chief Mechanic Son." Jeff turned to face his second eldest son's surprised expression. "It's the hallmark of a good man; facing up to your responsibilities."

"But Sam couldn't possibly of…" Virgil went to argue but Jeff continued.

"Virgil, I know he's your friend." Jeff looked across at his chestnut haired son sympathetically. "I know he's a good friend." He amended. "But he's doing what he thinks is the right thing, for everyone."

"So," Virgil frowned at his father. "You think its okay that he's resigning now, because of all this?"

"No I think that it's a shame that you're going to lose such a good mechanic. But I think you have to understand how Sam would feel after hearing that." He gestured down the hallway. "After hearing what the committee said he feels responsible and he's dealing with that the best way he can. Let him accept the consequences with some grace and leave him be. Hmm?"

Virgil slowly processed his father's words. "It wasn't Sam's fault though." His frown persisted.

"Virgil, when Sam accepted the position of Chief Mechanic, he knew what it meant. Sam was responsible for the condition of the car and Sam has to face the consequences." Jeff paused. "I know no one could have possibly foreseen that Ferrari US would make such a fundamental error, you know that and deep down Sam probably know it too. Nevertheless, if he still feels responsible, then maybe resigning is his way of facing the consequences. You need to understand that he feels it's the right thing to do."

"You don't think I should try and talk him out of it, do you?" Virgil studied his father for a reply.

"I think you should try and appreciate how Sam's feeling now." Jeff placed a hand on his shoulder. "You wouldn't be a very good friend if you didn't talk to him about it. Just try to understand that this is something Sam obviously feels he has to do." Virgil realised there was a pressure on his shoulder. "It doesn't make him a bad person Son; in fact it's just the opposite."

"Hmm," Virgil sighed pensively. He could see his father's point and as much as he hated to admit to it, he was right too. "I'll talk to him and see what he says. Thanks Dad."

Jeff nodded; Virgil recognised the approving glint in his eye telling him he thought Sam was doing the right thing. Unfortunately, deep down they both knew they'd already lost a valuable team member. Virgil was deep in thought, slowly processing his father's words, when Jeff spoke again. "How's Alan coping?"

The chestnut haired man shrugged. "Okay, I think. He's talking to Gordy. I think I managed to convince him to race again. He's going to take it slow, nice and easy. He's coping okay Dad." Virgil's attention was drawn to the way Jeff's jaw ground together pensively, Scott did the same thing and it was a sure sign he wanted to say something.

"I…" Jeff coughed. "I've been thinking. Alan was a state this morning, I'm worried about how all this has affected him. I mean, he's still young. So are you." He paused and Virgil experienced one of the few times in his life when he'd seen his father display any kind of uncertainty. "How do you think he'd react if I suggested talking to someone about all this? I mean… someone professional."

"I think he'd hit the roof." Virgil replied seriously. "Dad we both know it's not going to be easy, but we're coping. I promise you. Besides, the circuit offered us a chance to talk to someone and we both said no. We don't need outsiders Dad, we've got each other." He said with sentiment.

Jeff nodded. "I know Son but…"

"Dad," Virgil sighed, speaking over him. "Alan'll be ok and so will I. We need to be looking to the future now, not the past."

Something in Jeff's spine tingled at those words. "The future huh?" He grinned, putting all his faith in Virgil's words. "Well, let's go and talk to Alan. The future sounds good to me Son; I just don't want you to forget that if you need help, it's available."

"We know that Dad." Virgil assured him as he felt Jeff's arm creep round his shoulder.

"Good." Jeff grinned as he led his second eldest son towards his youngest. "Then let's talk about the future."

XxxxX

Not far away, Alan had told his copper haired brother the good news and was awaiting a reaction.

"That's great news! I'm really pleased for you." Gordon was enthusing, smiling widely. It seemed it was infectious as Alan grinned back too. "Listen I'm sorry I couldn't talk earlier."

Alan shook his head. "It's okay. I've just had a talk with Virgil too and I think, well…. I don't think I'm going to sell the car after all."

"Good." The copper haired young man replied with a sincere grin. "Al, you've got talent and you can't give up on that." Gordon was still smiling in reply. "I've been thinking about what you said." Alan looked at him blankly and he explained. "Remember after we'd had that … discussion." Gordon didn't want to say argument, and fight made it sound as if he'd actually hit his brother. "You said you wished there was something you could do that would prove to me how sorry you were. Well there is something I want you to do."

Alan looked directly at his brother in the eye. "Name it."

"I want you to promise me that you'll never give up on this." Gordon told him with a sigh. "Don't give up on racing; I don't care if you come last in every race you're ever in. If it's what you want to do, then we'll be proud of you anyway." He paused, repeating that in his head and deciding it was far too serious; it needed lightening up. "We'll probably tease you like hell but we'll all be proud."

Alan smiled. "Thanks Gordy. I'm so pleased you guys were there when all this happened." There was a commotion on the other end of the line and raised voices followed.

Gordon smiled. "Listen, technically I'm still on duty. I'm sorry I've got to go, I'll call you tonight and we'll talk properly okay." His smile became apologetic as he grimaced. "Hey, has Dad said anything about that big talk I told you about?"

Alan shook his head. "No not yet, but I figured he'd wait until this was all over before he unleashed his plans for world domination on us. Don't worry I'll play dumb." He grinned through the screen at his partner in crime.

Gordon laughed. "I've really got to go. I'll talk to you later." He paused. "And I was joking about the world domination part."

Alan smiled in return. "Talk to you later." He closed down the 'phone with a grin just as Virgil and his father approached.

"You alright Son?" Jeff frowned, studying the young man who had seemed so apprehensive that morning.

"Do you know what Dad?" Alan grinned back, with a contented sigh. "For the first time in a while, I think I am."

The smile spread to his eyes until his face was alight with the cheeky sparkle that normally adorned his young, handsome features. Jeff Tracy smiled back; thoroughly pleased to see this return of the Alan he knew and loved so dearly. The words alone brought their own sense of reassurance to his tired features. He coughed pointedly; bringing the elated conversation back to reality. "Y'know boys, I know we haven't really spent the time together we'd hoped for this weekend. So, I've been thinking, I want to organise for you to all come and stay on the Island for a few weeks. We can spend some time together, all of us and have a talk."

"A talk Father?" Alan played as innocently as he could, something he was well practiced at. "What about?"

"Well," Jeff sighed. "About your future. The future."

"Is everything alright Father?" Alan noticed he was asking all the questions and glanced across to Virgil. His older brother's expression alone told him that Virgil already knew of their fathers intention to have a 'talk' and Alan presumed Scott had informed him. Virgil though, had never been a good liar and sheepishly remained quiet.

"Everything's fine Son." Jeff was assuring his youngest. "I just have some ideas I'd like to run by you, a proposition of sorts."

"A business proposition father?" Alan asked yet again. Drawing upon years of feigned innocence after one of Gordon's failed master plans.

"No, no it's more of a humanitarian effort, something that will benefit everyone in the world." Jeff told them cryptically. Jeff wrapped both arms around his sons' shoulders and began to lead them away, as Alan secretly wondered how far off Gordon's theory of world domination was. "It's just something I've been working on, something I think it's about time we talked about… … …"


End file.
